Prince of Secrets and Shadows

by C. S. Johnson

  I whirled around to face him. He was leaning against the door, dressed in a new ensemble of princely clothes. His brown hair was brushed back and styled so I could not see any of the hidden red, although there were hints of it in the shadow of a beard on his cheeks. There was a faint smirk on his face as I studied him, trying to see the Ferdy I knew: the street urchin who had set out to save me from trouble, the footman who stole me away from ballrooms. The simple boy who had loved me as a simple girl.

  “You look well.” Nervously, I fiddled with my sleeves, smoothing out all the wrinkles as I called on my failing courage. I could feel Ferdy’s eyes linger on my bare shoulder, the one he had bruised. “Are you going to Mass?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am. Mother has called for special masses this week for the victims of the incident, and I am to attend them with her.”

  “I suppose Karl will be there, too,” I said. “He assured me that he was dedicated to your mother’s happiness.”

  Ferdy’s breath released sharply. “I was hoping we could avoid talking about him.”

  “Why should we?” I snapped. All my courage and patience was gone, and only my anger was left. “You lied to me. About everything.”

  “Not everything.”

  A new thought struck me as I stood there. “I don’t even know your real name!”

  His confidence faltered, ever so slightly. “My name is Ferdy. Well, Ferdinand. I was named after my father and the king. I wasn’t lying about that. I only... neglected... to mention that my father and the king were the same person.”

  When I crossed my arms over my chest, he gave me a sheepish look. “The name goes back several generations,” he murmured, still attempting to defend himself.

  My chin jutted forward defiantly. “I suppose Karl’s does, too?”

  “Even you should know Bohemia’s history.” Ferdy shifted his stance, moving away from the door to stand tall, his temper kindling in response to my own. “Karl was named after the first crowned king of our people. I was named after the last crowned king, which, thanks to my cousin, is still my father.”

  “You should have told me Karl was your brother.”

  “I told you enough about him!” Ferdy argued. “I even said he had a brother, the night I tricked him with the note from the footman. Remember?”

  It took me a moment, to recall the scene at the Hohenwart Ball, where Ferdy had appeared out of the shadows to come and see me. The scene became clear in my mind as I stood there, still attempting to rein in my remaining arguments. Underneath all my inner fury, I saw that night. I remembered Ferdy telling me Karl had been summoned away to go and retrieve his brother.

  “You were the one fooling around with an actress?” I arched my brow at him.

  “I did not know how accurate it was at the time.” Ferdy’s eyes roamed down my body, unable to hide his appreciation. “You clearly had some secrets yourself.”

  “Secrets are one thing,” I said, blushing. “Lies are another.”

  “I agree.” He glowered at me. “There’s enough of an overlap in this case that I find it offensive.”

  “Offensive enough when it’s done to you, but you don’t seem to have any trouble offending me.”

  “I also hate accusations.”

  “This from the man that has lied to me from the beginning!” I waved my arm around, gesturing toward the room around us. “Should I be flattered or insulted that after all your lies and secrets, you’ve kept me here like a prisoner of war?”

  “You were the one who accused me of being an assassin before. But you saved me, so I think we should consider ourselves even,” Ferdy said.

  “You had a handkerchief from the assassin’s place of employ,” I said.

  I thought of the handkerchief Ferdy had handed to me, the one he offered to me to stop the bleeding on my shoulder. It was just after he left me at the Advent Ball after Karl had run off, trying to find Lord Maximillian, in hopes of renegotiating their terms for the kingdom takeover. Ferdy had carried the handkerchief in his pocket.

  “There was a man who worked for the Szapira household who attacked Tulia,” I said. My head throbbed as I tried to keep my focus, but I was not going to let Ferdy see me cry.

  Never, I vowed.

  “Tulia was attacked?” Ferdy’s anger quickly transformed into surprise.

  I barely noticed his concern or heard his question. “Why else would you have it, if you were not in league with him?”

  “I had to borrow the ensemble from Karl, if you must know,” Ferdy said. “The handkerchief must have been a mix-up. He has been staying at the Szapira household since he returned to Prague. A simple mistake, that’s all.”

  “Your lies are no ‘simple mistake.’” I put my hand to my forehead, rubbing it in irritation. “You let me think you were nobody!”

  “You kissed my brother.”

  “He kissed me.”

  “You didn’t stop it.”

  “I was trying to stop him from possibly killing a bunch of people. It seemed like a decent gamble at the time.” I turned away again, looking for some way to distance myself from him.

  “That’s all you have to say about it?” He came up to me and put his hand on my arm.

  “Of all people, you should know that when you gamble, sometimes you lose,” I said, sullen at my own poor luck.

  “You told me that you loved me.”

  This time, Ferdy’s words came across as an accusation more than a reminder, and they cut deeply into my already floundering heart.

  His hands took hold of my shoulders and forced me to face him. I refused to look at his face; I did not want to witness the fun-loving Ferdy I had fallen in love with fade into nothingness.

  Another illusion, I told myself bitterly. “After all the lies you’ve told me, I’m sure we can forget about that.”

  “I never lied about how I felt about you.”

  “Well, I never did, either,” I snapped, trying to step back from him. I came up against a wall, and suddenly I was trapped.

  “Prove it.” He pulled me close, and I felt helpless as the angry heat between us transformed into desire.

  My arms were already twining around his neck as his mouth came crashing down on mine.

  There were endless lies surrounding us, but as he embraced me, I knew there was also one very important truth between us: I wanted him, and he wanted me.

  I almost laughed as Ferdy held me tightly, his hands pressing on the small of my back; I remembered Lady POW telling me once before that men liked to grab onto hips during intercourse. Then his body pressed even more into mine, and I stopped thinking altogether.

  Our kisses grew hotter and harder as I gripped onto him, unable to stop myself from wanting the moment to go on, even though I knew it had to stop.

  “We can’t do this,” I whispered, nearly out of breath.

  “I want to,” Ferdy murmured, as his lips found my throat, and then my shoulder, where he lovingly lingered over the cut he had caused. My former pain was replaced by pleasure, and a small moan escaped me, as if to give him absolution.

  “I know.” I hugged him, gripping him for balance as much as to keep him close. “But we can’t.”

  “Why not?” His eyes had clouded over with passion.

  “You know why not.” I waved my arm toward the window, gesturing at the broken kingdom outside the room. “You’re a prince.”

  “I’m not a real prince.”

  “Yes, you are,” I said. “And you just can’t be with someone like me.” I wanted to burst into tears, telling him that he could hardly marry someone who used to scrub the floors of her own home, let alone someone who was part of secret order of spies and protectors.

  It was just not proper.

  I pushed him away from me, determined to put a safe distance between us. “That’s why I have to go.”

  “Ella.”

  The vulnerability in his voice made my knees weaken. “The kingdom needs both of us,” I murmured, forcing myself to keep
moving. “You have a duty to the kingdom, and I ... I have to protect you.”

  “But—”

  Outside of the room, the church bells rang. We went silent in the room, letting the solemn joy of the music interrupt us for the moment.

  When the bells quieted, I shook my head. “Your mother will be worried for you. You should get to Mass.”

  “My mother can wait,” Ferdy said with a dismissive snort as he turned to look out the window. “She thinks I’ve been in Silesia for the past several months and that I came home to celebrate Christmas with the family. Do you remember the invitation to the Advent Ball? The one I gave you?”

  The one I had used as a bookmark for my reading as well as marker for my daydreams. The one I had run my fingers over many times, even the ragged, ripped edges at the top, where Ferdy had torn off the official greeting. Yes, I remembered it.

  “That was the invitation she sent out for me,” Ferdy said. “I stole it from the mail carrier one day while Jarl distracted him. Philip is the one who has been serving as the prince in my place, staying with the Duke of Silesia, disguised as a cousin to the Empress. He came back to report to me this past week. When he is gone, I will be free to go into the city while he goes back to studying and attending lectures in my place.”

  “So your mother thinks you’ve been at school instead of running around the streets of Prague dressed like a homeless person?”

  For a brief second, Ferdy grinned, and I had my beloved rascal back. “Absolument.”

  I grinned in reply, and we stared at each other for a long moment. It was so strange, I thought. I knew him so well, even though I knew nothing about him at all.

  The moment between us passed, and then he came up to me, threading his fingers into my hair before he kissed me again, softly and sweetly.

  No, I thought. There was one thing I knew for sure. We could not be together. Not now—not when there was nothing lasting between us, no real truth, and certainly no trust. Without that, the tidal wave of our passion, a tumultuous and rapturous thing, would end up destroying both of us.

  “Ferdy,” I whispered, with both wanting and warning.

  “You’re safe here, in my room,” he whispered back. “Let me keep you.”

  I knew what he wanted. I knew I wanted it, too. Already, half of my mind was mentally calculating the days of my monthly courses, anything to give me a reason to stay, while the other half was scolding me for even considering it.

  “How do I know you’re telling me the truth?” The last thing I wanted to do was hurt him, but if I did not find a way to break free of him, I would risk doing even more harm.

  Ferdy met my gaze with his. “I promise you this, Ella, that as of now, I will never lie to you again.” He leaned forward and kissed me again, and I stood there, letting him, desperately debating whether I could trust him or not. His promise burned through me, his words scorched into my being. It was so tempting to believe him, more tempting than anything else I had ever faced in all my life.

  Freedom was only freedom if I could trust it to be true.

  “Will you let me keep you?” Ferdy whispered against my lips.

  I was floored. The pleading in his voice, though disguised by pride, was clear; Ferdy was begging me to stay. He was a prince. Even while he played a beggar on the street, he never had to worry about his next meal or fear that he would be denied anything he wanted. But as he kissed me, I could feel the raw, burning desperation inside of him, the kind that only came with true risk. He knew he could make me stay. But he also knew it would mean nothing if I did not want to.

  “I have to go back to my family.” His humility, juxtaposed against my own humiliation, allowed me to pull back once more. “I don’t know what happened to my brother or the rest of them. Ben is too important to me.”

  Ferdy held onto me more tightly, and I felt my breath catch. I did not want to have to remind him there was a murderer on the loose.

  But as he held me in his arms, still and unmoving, I had a feeling we both knew he could convince me to stay, and I would not object so long as I had his kisses to keep me content.

  It seemed both too long and too short of a time had passed before he nodded, letting me slide out of his embrace. “You saved my life, despite my attempts to negate it, perhaps. I am indebted to you. And I know what your brother means to you, even if my own brotherly affections have been stymied over the last years.”

  I bit my lip, curious all of a sudden. “Why don’t you and Karl get along?” I asked. “He seemed nice enough to me. I know Ben and I have our differences, but we still love and care for each other.”

  “It takes an extraordinary amount of kindness and courage to love someone who hates you. Karl and I don’t appear to have much patience for that.” Ferdy smiled at me. “That’s something I’ve always loved about you. Your kindness and bravery were endearing to me, even at the beginning.”

  “The beginning?”

  “The first time I saw you, at your father’s funeral.” Ferdy looked out the window again, where dawn was starting to peek through Prague’s elaborate streets. “When the king heard about your father’s death, he was unusually determined to go. He said he never owed a man more of a debt than he did Adolf Svoboda.”

  It felt strange to hear Ferdy speak of my father. “Táta served as one of his bodyguards during the Revolution of 1848.”

  “While my mother was pregnant with Karl, and later after he was born,” Ferdy said with a nod. “I know. My father made your father a knight and gave him land before my cousin took over as Emperor.”

  “That’s the only real reason I’m a lady,” I said. “Is that how you knew who I was, the day we met in Prague?”

  Once more, the flirtatious grin appeared. “Among other things. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen you in the city. I know you were upset at losing your book, but I was quite glad for the excuse to rescue you.”

  I did not tell Ferdy that Amir had been the one behind the theft, and I had forgiven him for that day.

  “I remembered the funeral,” I said. “I didn’t realize you and Karl were there until...”

  Until I learned the truth. Until I learned the truth about the secret heirs of Bohemia.

  “Karl would have gladly neglected the funeral. I am the younger heir, but I am my father’s favorite. That is a large reason for the animosity between us. I doubt Karl has ever forgiven Father for such an insult.”

  I bit my lip, tempted to tell Ferdy he was my favorite, too. I kept to the relevant topic instead. “That is hardly your fault.”

  He paused for a moment, studying me closely.

  “You were your father’s favorite, too, weren’t you?” Ferdy asked, startling me with the abrupt question. “You don’t know what it is like, to feel the pain of being rejected by a parent.”

  I thought of how Táta had treated me, and then how he had treated Ben. Even before Ben fell off the barn roof and shattered his right leg, our father had been less affectionate toward him.

  I have never thought about that before.

  Was it possible I had ruined his life even before I had caused him to break his leg?

  “I don’t think Ben hates me for that,” I said, forcing myself to focus on Ferdy.

  “He has likely thought about it, even if he does not hate you for it.” Ferdy shrugged. “Karl and I have many differences, but most of them come from our father’s favoritism. He hates that he is still ordered to watch out for me, too.”

  I nodded blithely. From what I knew of him, Karl was a proud man.

  When Ferdy had tricked Karl into leaving the Hohenwart Ball, Karl reacted furiously. He was irritated at the interruption of our time together, but it was also clear he hated the task he was called to perform. It would anger him to be obligated to chase after his younger brother, especially while facing the neglect of his father. Such a slight would have been devastating.

  No wonder Karl was so accomplished for his age, I thought. He would have wanted to stand out in other
ways, almost as a way to punish his father for his lack of faith and favor.

  “When I said I wanted to go to your father’s funeral with him, Karl changed his mind,” Ferdy said, continuing with his tale.

  “Why did you want to go?” I asked. “You couldn’t be much younger than Ben. Even he didn’t want to go.”

  “Any boy who has ever wanted to be a man looks to his father first,” Ferdy replied.

  I thought about Ben’s own disdain for our father’s memory, but how quickly he would defend Táta’s legacy as a soldier for the kingdom. Ferdy was right, as much as I might have wished to disagree with him.

  “I know my father has his mental limitations and he is not what anyone might consider a prize. But as a child, none of that mattered quite as much to me as it did to others.”

  I knew that still did not matter to Ferdy. He had always been the one who saw the worth of others before he saw their capabilities or labels. He acknowledged his father’s shortcomings, but clearly, he did not see them as a barrier to a relationship.

  “When I found out what going to the funeral would mean to my father, I was determined to go.”

  “That must be why we get along so well,” I said. “We are both determined creatures at heart.”

  “You more than me. When I saw you—when you smiled at me as I helped my father through another one of his seizures at your father’s funeral—I felt unusually uncomfortable. I was there because I wanted my father to be proud of me. You were there because of your father’s death, and even in your sadness, you had enough goodness to offer a child your kindness.”

  He came up to me again, clasping my hand in his and caressing it affectionately.

  “So you must know, Ella,” he whispered, “this idea that you are not of my station is true. But you have it wrong. I do not deserve you.”

  I shook my head. I did not believe him.

  “There are other reasons we can’t,” I whispered, looking down at my new dress, the one that covered the stealth habit Lady POW had commissioned for me. “It’s too dangerous.”

  Ferdy straightened and took a small step back from me, allowing the tension between us to lapse ever so slightly.