Kingdom of Ruses

by Kate Stradling

  “Ah,” said that man with a short bow, “I do beg your pardon. As your Royal Highness is no doubt aware, West Anrich is our nearest neighbor, just over the mountains. Governor Negri desires to open up diplomatic relations, and perhaps to set up trade.”

  “Lenore is self-sufficient, as you should well know, Lord Conrad,” said Viola’s father.

  “In the barest necessities, yes,” said Conrad, “but West Anrich is a wealthy principality, with an abundance of resources that we lack—minerals and exotic spices and such.”

  “And what resources would they expect us to trade with them?”

  Lord Conrad did not answer directly. His nervous glance shifted to his two companions. Even Governor Negri seemed reluctant, but Natalia stepped forward boldly. “Lenore is a fabled reservoir of magic,” she said. “The supply in our own lands has dwindled, so naturally, we desire—”

  “No,” said the Prince, and he said it with such ferocity that the nearby orchestra stuttered to a halt. The dancers on the floor turned in surprise and a hush fell over the room.

  Natalia’s calm façade finally cracked even as she struggled to maintain some semblance of control. Clearly she was uncomfortable being the sudden center of attention, but she rebounded very quickly. “Surely if your Highness heard our offer—”

  “You are asking Lenore to put herself willingly in bondage to the Empire of Melanthos, and the answer is no,” the Prince interrupted. A low murmur arose among the crowd of listeners.

  Viola felt the festive atmosphere shift into one of apprehension. Of course people would be fearful when they saw their leader confronted by emissaries of Melanthos, when they heard him speak in such stringent tones. As she considered what she now knew of the magic of Lenore, though, giving access to it to anyone would literally put the land in bondage, just as it had previously been to the Moreland family. A protective streak flared within her: the land had only just been freed. There was no chance she would allow it to be enslaved again, not when she knew what that enslavement entailed.

  “It seems to me,” Natalia said after a moment’s pause, “that Lenore is already in bondage to a nameless, faceless Prince.”

  Stricken silence blanketed the room as everyone waited to see what response would come. To Viola’s surprise, the Prince rose to his feet and looked down his regal nose to lock eyes with the insolent woman. “Isn’t it rather the other way around?” he asked rhetorically. Then, he curtly nodded to the Prime Minister and departed from his place. Nicholas and Elizabeth arose to follow. Viola hurried behind them, unconsciously scanning the room for Charles.

  The crowds parted and the Prince swept past them with royal grace. Charles met them at the door, where the Prince paused and turned to his guests. “Please continue to enjoy your evening,” he told everyone. “Prime Minister,” he said in a lower voice, “perhaps you should keep an eye on Lord Conrad and his guests. I will only tolerate so much impudence.”

  “Indeed,” said Nicholas grimly.

  “Then I will leave you all here,” said the Prince, “except Viola.” And so saying, he snatched her wrist and pulled her from the room with him. She had enough wits left to wave goodbye to her family—Charlie and her mother both seemed quite astonished, but her father had already turned back to signal the orchestra to resume their music.

  Instinct told her to demand an explanation, but the hand around her wrist trembled. Viola realized quite suddenly that the Prince, despite his calm exterior, had been very shaken by his earlier encounter. Thus instead of throwing questions at him, she quickened her pace so that he would not have to drag her along behind him. He released his grip when it was apparent she had no intention of balking at the premature departure.

  “Are you all right?” she ventured to ask as they made their way up the grand staircase. “Your Highness?”

  He did not answer. From the corner of her eyes she noticed that every guard along the way watched them closely. She determined to keep her silence for the moment. Their footsteps echoed down the marble hallway, the Prince’s bold strides and Viola’s softer taps. In the final corridor where the Prince’s quarters lay, another set came running after them.

  “William!” cried a woman’s voice. Viola turned in surprise to see Natalia at the corner, a wild look on her face. The Prince never even glanced back. “Your kind all have those eyes, but yours are too familiar! William had those eyes!”

  The Prince snapped one finger as he walked, and a jaguar—a real, enormous, spotted jaguar—suddenly tore away from the painted wall and stood between his retreating form and the raving woman; a low, feral growl issued from its mouth. Viola gasped at the sight. Her gaze shifted between the still-retreating Prince and the creature that had just sprung from seemingly nowhere. Natalia, too, had taken a step back, as had the several guards that lined the way.

  At the entrance to the Prince’s apartments, the sentries scrambled to open the door. The Prince tugged on his mask as he passed them, and Viola saw one man’s eyes widen in awe as he caught a glimpse of his illustrious ruler’s face. The sentry immediately averted his gaze downward, an act of respect. Once beyond the doorway, the Prince whistled, and the jaguar suddenly turned from where it growled and pranced after its master. It padded past the astonished guards and a horrified Viola and slinked silently behind the Prince into his bedroom.

  Natalia suddenly laughed, a derisive sound. “Is that the extent of the Eternal Prince’s magic? One large kitty-cat?”

  “I believe that’s what they call a warning,” Viola called back as she moved to shut the doors. She paused briefly to add to the guards, “If that woman does not leave on her own, have her arrested and send word to Lord Conrad that he can collect her from the dungeons.” Then, she closed the doors and, after a moment’s consideration, flipped the locks into place. That Natalia was a bold woman, and she wouldn’t put it past her to try to gain access to the Prince’s apartment.

  She hesitated outside of his bedchamber. Natalia’s taunts rang in her ears. She wondered whether there was any substance to them. Viola tentatively pushed against the door. Slowly it opened, but as she poked her head inside, a hand suddenly closed around her wrist and yanked her inward. The Prince pulled her into a crushing embrace. He had discarded his headdress and the magnificent peacock-feather cape, and his entire body trembled, as though he was freezing even though it was the middle of summer.

  “Y-your Highness?” Viola said gingerly.

  “William,” he whispered. “It was my name before I died.”

  She caught her breath, too afraid to say anything and all the while hoping that he would explain. The narrative tumbled from his lips in a broken confession.

  “I was ten years old, playing with some other children from my village, and we were near a ravine and… and I fell, and I died, and the earth chose to give me life again. By the time I climbed out, my playmates had already run back to fetch my parents. I emerged unscathed from the ravine, but the change had come over me. My father and mother were afraid—they said I wasn’t William, that I was a demon who had come to try to replace their son, and they cast me from the village. Four days—four horrible days—I scavenged along the edge of town. After those four days, they appeared and took me—paid my parents a sum of money and took me.”

  “Who?” Viola whispered with foreboding.

  “A sorcerer named Bruno, and his young assistant, Natalia,” said the Prince, and his hold on her seemed to tighten. “They kept me caged and shackled and enslaved—they drained my blood every couple of weeks to drink it. They knew what I was long before I knew it myself. Three years passed in that hell, and I wanted nothing more than to die again—and I slowly wasted away.

  “One night, they caught a wood imp. They were going to butcher him to use in their various potions and concoctions, as they had done with many other creatures before, but it was too late in the evening to get started, so they simply locked him away in another cage and went away to bed. I… I knew by then that I held magic in my blood. I h
ad watched them all those years and learned somewhat of the craft, and while I was powerless to free myself, I decided I couldn’t watch the slaughter of another creature, even if it was as insignificant as a wood imp. So, I used my magic as best I could, first to heal its injuries, and then to set it free. I was so clumsy. It took me all night, but the imp disappeared through the window just as the sun was rising. When Bruno and Natalia returned, they assumed that it had escaped on its own.

  “I was weak by then, too weak to do much else than heal a wood imp. I was certain I would die soon—this time permanently. A week after that imp escaped, though, two people—a man and a woman—appeared at the laboratory. I was faint at the time, quickly failing. All I remember is a lot of commotion and blinding lights, and then a pair of calm voices speaking to me, telling me that everything would be all right. It was my parents—the nifaran that I call my parents now—who had been summoned to rescue me by that lowly little wood imp. They told me Bruno was dead. Natalia escaped in the tumult.

  “Seven years have passed since then, and my parents would have had me live peacefully among the nifaran, but I couldn’t rest knowing that I was still enslaved. I needed to find a way to break the enslavement—our lore said that it could only be broken by the counterpart, but I had none: I had been a child and had made no bonds with the land itself, let alone another nifara. There had to be another way, and I determined to search for it. All these years I’ve longed for nothing more than to kill Natalia, but that’s the one thing I’m not capable of doing, because I’m still enslaved to her.

  “And now she is here, seeking to enslave Lenore itself, and I am powerless to do more than summon a guardian to growl at her,” he finished bitterly. “I’m such a fool. I never should have come here!”

  Viola didn’t know what to say, so wholly astonished by his confession. She had never imagined that he lived under the burden of enslavement—the same burden she and her family had kept over Lenore’s magic for centuries, she thought. No wonder he had corrected that situation first upon his arrival here. But where Viola’s crime had been unwitting, Natalia and her master had intentionally enslaved and abused him, knowing all the while that it was slowly killing him. Viola couldn’t blame him for wanting to break that enslavement at all costs.

  Before she knew what she was really doing, one arm had worked its way around his neck to cradle his head against her shoulder. “You’re not a fool,” she cooed. “She would have come regardless of your presence, and we never would have known what she was, but for you. You’re not a fool.”

  He pulled back to look her in the eyes, his own gaze searching almost desperately—for what, Viola did not know. Then, as though it was simply the natural course of events, he leaned down and kissed her, and Viola, instead of pushing him away as she had sworn she would, pulled him closer as she kissed him back.

  She was breathless when they parted. For a moment it seemed as though he might kiss her again, but suddenly his eyes widened. He recoiled violently from her. “No, no, no!” he cried, holding up defensive hands. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—!” His legs hit the edge of the Prince’s bed, and he abruptly sat. He buried his head in his hands in anguish. “I’m sorry, Viola,” he said. “I shouldn’t be anywhere near you, especially under the circumstances!”

  Viola had leaned against the wall behind her to help support suddenly weak legs. “I didn’t exactly shove you away,” she mumbled dully, mortified at her own actions.

  The Prince’s head snapped up, his expression thunderstruck. “You… didn’t,” he said as that realization descended upon him. A slow smile spread across his mouth. “Why, Viola Lisette Moreland,” he began.

  “Shush,” she said as a blush rose to her cheeks. “And where did you learn my middle name?”

  “I read your journal,” he replied shamelessly, “remember?”

  Viola pressed one hand to her forehead and wondered just what it was about this man that she found so very captivating. “What are we to do about Natalia?” she asked to change the subject.

  “I’d like to kill her,” he said bluntly, “but I can’t. Not only am I not capable of doing such a thing, I also suspect that if she were to end up dead it might start an international incident. Your father suggested that we wait out this visit—she and the governor are supposed to return to Melanthos after the festival has ended. He offered to lay an ambush in the mountains on their way home and have her assassinated, but I told him it’s my responsibility.”

  “My father offered to have someone assassinated?” Viola cried.

  He nodded vigorously. “He’s a very good man,” he said, and his words stood in stark contrast with the deed they were discussing.

  “Then he knows your history with her?”

  “I told him the day she first arrived. He already knew I was here to search out how to break an enslavement bond.”

  Viola’s head was swimming. Her father—her kind, gentle father—had offered to have someone murdered. Meanwhile, the Prince—William, she thought vaguely—watched her with uncanny perception.

  “I told you that you were very lucky, Viola,” he said quietly. “My father eagerly sold me to Natalia and her master. Yours would kill to keep you safe from them. You must know that he has had your wellbeing in mind this entire time.”

  She didn’t know how to answer that. Her father loved her, she knew, but it was somewhat disconcerting to realize just to what lengths he would go to protect her. Still, “It was for your sake that he made that offer. Natalia can have no plans against me—I’m the Prime Minister’s daughter.”

  His expression darkened. “She probably thinks that you are my counterpart, and if she’s figured out who I am, then she’s all the more likely to come after you. That’s why you must stay away from me at all costs,” he finished vehemently.

  Viola frowned. “If she already thinks we’re together, I don’t see what difference it makes.”

  “Because, my dear girl,” he replied, “so long as no true bond exists between you and me, you should be safe. Much as I appreciate your willingness,” he added with a knowing glance at her.

  “My willingness for what?” Viola inquired acerbically. “I wasn’t making any offers, just saying that I don’t think it matters what we do since Natalia has probably already drawn her conclusions about the two of us. Wrong conclusions, I must emphasize.”

  “Very wrong,” he agreed. “I swore not to take a counterpart until Natalia was dead. I never thought you would actually play the part of a temptress, though,” he added a bit ruefully.

  “I’m not playing a temptress,” Viola argued. “If you come near me again, I may very well kick you!” He grinned rakishly. She opened her mouth to make another threat, but she was interrupted by a high-pitched yell from the next room.

  “That sounded like Edmund,” she said as she started forward with worry. In the flurry of events, she had forgotten that her little brother had been left in the Prince’s apartments. If someone had gotten in, if he was hurt—

  The Prince was just ahead of her, tearing through the door that led into the library. Viola followed and stopped short upon the sight that met her eyes. Edmund lay huddled on a couch in the center of the room, where he had been sleeping, no doubt. Across from him, settled quite comfortably in an oversized chair, was the spotted jaguar from the hallway.

  “Oh, it’s only Gregor,” said the Prince, as though nothing were amiss.

  “Gregor?” Viola repeated incredulously.

  “That’s what I decided to call him,” he said, like a child who had brought home some innocuous pet.

  “I assumed that creature had already vanished! Why is it still here?”

  Amused golden eyes turned toward her. “He’s as real as you or me. Here, Ed, there’s nothing to be afraid of. He won’t hurt you.”

  He started to step forward, but Viola caught him by the arm. “What do you mean, as real as you or me? I saw you conjure him!”

  “Not conjure,” the Prince corrected. “
Summon. There’s a difference. Incidentally, there are a number of summoning spells worked throughout the palace. I’ve gone exploring on several nights, you know. Most of them are quite old. I’ve started to suspect that the Eternal Prince wasn’t always the myth you think he was.”

  “What?” Viola croaked.

  “Yes. At any rate, once the creature is summoned, it’s as real as you or me, so Gregor is in the world to stay. Although, I think I shall probably have to release him into the forest.”

  The jaguar lifted its head. Its pale eyes stared reproachfully at the Prince.

  “Or you can stay here if you like,” he said hesitantly, and Gregor returned to his former repose.

  “H-he won’t hurt me?” asked Edmund breathlessly. He had relaxed somewhat and now ventured to lower his feet to the floor.

  “He’s perfectly harmless to you,” the Prince assured him.

  “I woke up and saw him there and thought I was dreaming,” Edmund admitted as he gingerly arose. “Can I… can I touch him?”

  “Edmund, no!” said Viola.

  The Prince hummed. “It should be all right. Just be gentle. Don’t make any startling moves, and if he seems upset, back away from him.”

  Viola watched in growing horror as her little brother stepped closer to the jaguar. The animal’s tail flicked but it otherwise seemed not to care. When Edmund extended tentative fingers, Gregor raised his nose to sniff, then butted his head against Edmund’s hand.

  “I think he likes me,” said the boy in awe.

  “I think we should be headed up into the tower,” said the Prince. “It’s almost time, isn’t it?”

  Edmund whirled to look at the small clock on the mantle, then scrambled to the door. The jaguar sat bolt upright in surprise but merely watched him go.

  “Mind the furniture, Gregor,” said the Prince as he led Viola from the room.

  “You’re just going to let that creature take up residence in the royal library?” Viola hissed.

  “Well, I can’t very well kick him out. I’m like his parent, Viola. I gave him life, and if he doesn’t want to leave, I’m not sure I have it in me to force him to go. That was higher magic, by the way, the kind practiced by the nifaran. That’s why he won’t vanish. Someone long ago knew what they were doing when they worked that spell and others into the palace walls.”