Kingdom of Ruses

by Kate Stradling

  He leaned against the door and crossed his arms. “That’s a silly question,” he replied. “You just have to take care of the land, nurture it.”

  Viola looked up. “And what about you?” she asked reluctantly.

  “What about me?” he replied. The wariness in his voice stood her nerves on end.

  She spoke her question timidly. “What are you going to do now? Now that your enslavement to Natalia is gone?”

  “Ah. I’m going to live my life as I see fit, I suppose. It’s a great burden that I’m finally rid of, as you can probably imagine.”

  She nodded, then arose from her chair and moved toward the stairway again. “Good night, then,” she said.

  “This bond between the land and your family,” the Prince started before she could leave, “is most curious in nature. Lenore is indeed as powerful as the legends foretold, but it allowed your family to drain its strength for centuries. I spoke with many of the creatures this morning, and they all knew the name of Moreland. It seems that most of them have been in a state of hibernation for ages, that the land refused to call them up against the abuse your ancestors were committing, but actually protected you instead.”

  Viola stood frozen at the top of the stairs. “Did you discover why?” she asked without turning.

  He did not immediately answer. She could not bear to look at him, knowing as she did that her family had kept the land subjugated for so long, however unwitting their actions had been.

  “The Eternal Prince,” he said at last, “was a Moreland. He was also a nifara who protected the land with the whole of his being. Most nifaran don’t have children, because they’re born human and the parents must watch them age, and wither, and die. The Eternal Prince was different. He took a wife and established your family line through a son, who grew to take the position of Prime Minister. At some point, as the generations passed that title from father to son to grandson, the Prince must have decided that his presence was no longer necessary. He sealed his life into the land to ensure its prosperity and left behind only a legacy. I think somewhere along the way, the old rituals were lost, and the truth twisted into legend, then fantasy. There is still deep respect among the ancient creatures for the Eternal Prince, and for the name of Moreland.”

  “How very strange,” said Viola in little more than a whisper.

  “That day we first met, by the well,” he continued, “I had been drawn to that place—it should have been veiled and hidden from me, but the land had grown too weak. I almost felt as though it was pleading to me for help, but it didn’t wish for vengeance as I did against my captors. It wanted the original bond restored, because it still loved the family who had enslaved it.”

  Tears slipped down Viola’s cheeks and she was suddenly glad he couldn’t see her face. “We didn’t mean to,” she said.

  “I know. Lenore knows as well. I told you before, that was to your credit. You must be certain to take good care of the land from here and forever,” he added.

  It sounded like the final admonition from someone she would never see again. Viola turned to look at him at last. “How much longer will you be here?” she inquired, keeping her voice as steady as she could.

  He looked far too solemn. “I’m not certain.”

  Viola hesitated to ask her next question, but impulse made her form the words. “May I call you William until you go?”

  He was stunned, if the widening of his eyes was any indication. Cassian had told her that he never spoke of his true name, but he refused to call himself Aureus, and Viola was tired of distancing him under the royal title of the Prince. Whether he was comfortable enough with his past to allow someone to use that old name, though, she did not know.

  He opened and shut his mouth once, wordless. Then, “If you must, I’d prefer Will,” he said a little uncomfortably.

  The smile on her face was instinctive. “Good night, Will,” she said as she turned back to the stairs. “Thank you for everything you’ve done.” Then, she shut the panel behind her.

  The next morning, when she went up to the Prince’s apartments, he was gone.

  Chapter 17: Life Carries on Just as Before

  Winter has been unusually cold this year. At least it seems that way to me. Gregor thinks so to, as he is constantly underfoot and always wants to lie against me when I’m sitting down. If I ever see Will again, I’m going to throttle him for leaving behind a giant housecat that apparently believes its sole purpose in life is to keep me constant company.

  The last of the treason trials finished three days ago. The military has undergone an overhaul of power, and so has Parliament. Most of the lords and magistrates who had become confederate to Lord Conrad renounced him the moment his coup failed, and many of them claimed to have been grossly misled regarding his purposes. Several have resigned, and a few others will remain in prison for a sentence, but Conrad himself was the only one to suffer execution (along with several of his military cronies, I should add). Those who were always loyal to Father and the Prince will certainly be keeping an eye on the others, however.

  In the meantime, Father has been busy smoothing over relations with Melanthos. I wrote in an earlier entry that we received imperial emissaries two months ago demanding for news of their precious Governor Negri, and that Father had sent them back with a report of the events of last summer and a letter from the Prince kindly requesting their magistrates not to interfere with his little country. Well, now they have sent word again—from the Emperor himself, it seems—with apologies and well-wishes for the Prince in future days. Father has, of course, increased the number of soldiers at our borders in response, but we seem to have a little peace ahead, at least. No doubt Governor Negri’s attendants, whom we released from prison and sent home with the original correspondence, were able to testify of the violence that had occurred here. I hope their accounts were horrific enough to convince Melanthos that Lenore is much too trivial and troublesome to conquer. Otherwise, I’ll have to figure out how to summon all those creatures from the forest again, and I haven’t the slightest clue how to go about doing something like that.

  No, I’d rather not throw myself into mortal peril just to get a reaction from the land, thank you very much. I suppose I’ll just have to do my part and trust that Lenore will take care of herself if and when the time comes.

  “You’re going to run out of time for the doppelganger,” Edmund said to Viola as she entered the rose garden through the hedge. “Charlie pulled out the doll, but the meeting’s going to start in a quarter of an hour. Why were you out at the well for so long?”

  Gregor the spotted jaguar slipped lithely past her and trotted up the frozen path. “Keep your voice down,” Viola said as she hurried forward. The garden may have looked empty, but they had every reason to exercise caution with their words. “I was off performing a ritual to the land, and it took me a little longer than I thought it would, that’s all. If the doll is out and dressed already, then everything will be fine.”

  She handed the metal bucket to her little brother and pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders, shivering in the cold. Six months had passed since the fantastical midsummer festival—it was midwinter now, and the whole of Lenore was blanketed in snow, except at the well. There, an eternal spring blossomed before Viola’s eyes. Every time she returned from its safe-haven, she felt that much colder for having been warm only a few moments previous.

  With Edmund trotting behind her and Gregor loping off ahead, she made her way quickly back to the palace, up to the third story and the apartment of the Eternal Prince. She nodded to the guards as she passed. Then, while Edmund tugged Gregor off toward the library, she twisted her path into the Prince’s bedchamber. Charles had indeed readied the doll. It sat attired, resplendent in the ceremonial robes of the Eternal Prince.

  Viola deftly traced the wine-colored magic into the correct pattern on the doll’s forehead, and the spell left her lips. Just as she touched her finger to the seal, though, there was a loud knock on
the outer door.

  “Your Royal Highness?” a voice called.

  Viola cursed. “Why must they be early, today of all days?” The doppelganger was taking on its animate form, but the spell still needed time to complete itself. “Put on your headdress after you’re ready,” she instructed the doll, “then go sit on your litter, if you feel up to it. I’ll be right back.”

  She slipped out the door to confront four guards who stood waiting in the entry.

  “He’s not quite ready yet,” she said with longsuffering. “It’ll only be a couple of minutes, I think. Do you mind terribly having to wait?”

  The captain shook his head politely. “We’re early,” he said. “Your father requested for the Prince not to be late, as they’ll be confirming a new man to Lord Conrad’s former position.”

  “Yes, Lord Dalton,” said Viola. “The Prince is aware of that, but you know how he can be.” She smiled helplessly, and a couple of the guards allowed nervous chuckles to escape their mouths.

  “Will he be requiring the litter today, or does he wish to walk?” the captain asked.

  “The litter has been set out,” said Viola decisively. Even after six months’ practice, she didn’t trust herself to conjure a doppelganger that could manage that long walk on its own. “Let me just check to see if he’s ready yet.”

  The captain nodded politely—all the soldiers had become supremely polite since Lord Conrad’s foiled revolution, Viola thought—and she slipped back into the Prince’s bedchamber.

  The doppelganger had followed her instructions and sat in the litter’s chair, his headdress perfectly in place. The golden eyes that trained upon her did not surprise her in the least. All her doppelgangers had eyes that color. She never bothered trying to change them anymore. Eventually her memory would fade, she reasoned, but until then there was no use fighting against it.

  She circled around his person for a quick inspection of his clothes. Then, she gave her instructions. “Hello,” she said pleasantly. “You are the Eternal Prince of Lenore. You’re about to attend a meeting of Parliament, over which you will preside. Please don’t speak or make any unnecessary movements. Just sit in place and look down your regal nose at everyone there, and everything will be just fine.”

  Then, she moved to open the room to the four waiting guards.

  They marched in and bowed to the Prince, who inclined his head in return, looking very imperial indeed. With no further ceremony, they hoisted the litter with two men on either side. Viola threw open the double doors to the hallway beyond.

  “His Royal Highness, the Eternal Prince of Lenore!” cried a guard waiting there, and the soldiers along the hallway stood a little straighter as their beloved ruler passed. Viola followed at a proper distance through the hallway and down the stairs to the waiting Parliament, where all the lords and magistrates of Lenore stood assembled.

  Charlie flashed her a grin from his post at the door.

  As the Prince’s litter was settled at the front of the room and Viola took her usual place in the corner, her father called to the assembly, “All hail the Eternal Prince of Lenore!”

  “Hail!” cried the ranks of lords, and the congregation was then seated.

  “I now call this meeting of the Royal Parliament of Lenore to order,” the Prime Minister said, and he shuffled the papers in front of him in a businesslike fashion. “Our first item of business is—”

  “Prime Minister,” said a voice. Viola started violently in her chair. “I wonder if I might make a request before we begin.”

  The assembly as a whole froze and fixed wide eyes upon the revered figure that presided over them. Curiously enough, Viola’s father seemed to be the only one who maintained his composure.

  “Of course, your Highness,” he said to the Prince, a pleasant expression on his face. “What have you to say to us?”

  “I’ve decided to take a consort,” the Prince replied. “I thought I should make certain there are no objections from Parliament before I do so.”

  Nicholas Moreland turned back to the lords and magistrates in their chairs. “Are there any objections to this?” he asked, as though the matter of business were some everyday proceeding. A few of the lords murmured to each other, but no one made any sounds of dissent.

  “It appears you have our full support, your Highness,” said the Prime Minister.

  “Thank you,” said the Prince mildly.

  As Nicholas Moreland returned to the task of starting their meeting, the Eternal Prince shifted his golden stare to where Viola sat dumbfounded. He waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively, and she could tell that he was grinning beneath his mask.

  She really was going to slug him once they returned to the safety of his apartments, she decided in that moment. After six months’ absence and no word whatsoever, to make such a return! She was going to slug him so hard that his teeth would rattle for a week!