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Authors: Catherine Gilbert Murdock

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"I shall forgive such a dreadful transgression only if the new image be more flattering." (Good heavens, I was turning into a most dreadful flirt!)

"You may be certain I would not have spoken otherwise. He frowned over my shoulder. As we turned, I caught sight of Florian dancing enthusiastically with a beautiful young lady whose bosom, I must say, remained in its encasement through goodwill alone. The prince could not have snubbed me more completely.

King Renaldo scowled. "Forgive my son, Princess, for not paying you the attention you deserve.

"Think nothing of it. How could a man surrounded by such roses note a simple fleur-de-blanc?" (here naming a diminutive local flower).

"With maturity, a man realizes that the quality of a bloom matters far more than its boast.

At this, the dance ended and with thanks for his company I departed the king's side, my head quite spinning from the nuances of our conversation and from my fear that I had unwittingly misspoken.

For the rest of the night I danced with every able man in the room save Prince Florian. King Renaldo requested my
hand twice more. Several times I noticed him lecturing Florian, or so it appeared from the resentment with which the prince accepted his words, and the prince's attitude grew ever frostier as the night progressed.

With time my toes began to throb in their little prisons and I depleted completely my store of innocuous and winning pleasantries. Were it not for the invigorating qualities of champagne and the many compliments I was paid, I would have not survived at all. In her omniscience, the queen sensed my exhaustion and, recognizing that fruit is best picked ripe, released me as the clock struck midnight. Lord Frederick escorted me from the room, heaping praise on my weary frame.

We had scarcely progressed past the ex-ballroom, however, when sharp footsteps and a sharper "Your pardon, sir" brought us up short.

Prince Florian addressed Lord Frederick. "If I might have a moment of the princess's time.

Seeing my nod, Frederick stepped away to examine a tapestry.

"Your Highness, I greeted him, matching his chill.

Florian paced, too angry to meet my eye.

My feet ached, my very bones drooped with exhaustion. "If you carry a message of substance, I shall receive it; otherwise these pleasantries can surely wait for morn.

"Your behavior is despicable! the prince snapped.

"In what way? I snapped back. "You have no cause to criticize me.

"No cause? I vowed, the moment I left that cursed Blue Room and your conniving sorcery, never to speak of what I had witnessed, and until this day I had no incentive to do so. Since our arrival in this demon castle, however, as I witness your handiwork, I cannot but fear for the preservation of all that I hold dear.

"My handiwork? As hostess and emissary?

"Emissary? Hostess? Do not toy with me! I am no longer some innocent trapped by your lies and spell work! I demand, should you value your life and the lives of your people, to break at once the enchantment you have placed upon my father!

So staggered was I by this fallacious and spiteful accusation that I nigh broke my ankle on the ridiculous heels on which I tottered. "Enchantment, you say? It is enchantment to practice dance for hour after hour, day after day, with a man who reeks of fish? To ride, and write, and prattle inces
santly about nothing whatsoever? To stitch enough handkerchiefs to dam the Great River itself, and bully one's body into clothes more suitable for martyrs than ladies? I snatched up one of my cursed slippers. "Does this smack of magic to you? Because allow me to inform you, my handsome young prince, that this be not enchantment—it be work!

With that, I hurled the slipper at him, not caring if I caused his decapitation. (I did not.) Marshaling what little dignity I yet possessed, I stomped down the corridor—challenging indeed with one shoe—and around the corner.

I lay awake for hours. The prince had no right, not one, to indict me so, and if I had held the slightest hope of the book's assistance, I would have climbed at once to my wizard room for a spell with which to punish him. Death, perhaps, or humiliation. A croaking frog would be nice, particularly a frog that retained Florian's dark eyes. I should keep it in a box and poke it occasionally with a stick; that would be satisfying indeed.

Calming myself in degrees with such pleasant notions, I drifted at last to sleep.

NINETEEN

I breakfasted in my chambers, occupying myself with reports from the staff. A stolen pearl necklace demanded much of my attention until the crisis was finally resolved by a diligent manservant who discovered it in a potted palm, discarded there by an inebriated duchess.

When at last I appeared at the luncheon buffet, I was stunned to see Prince Florian glowering down at his plate. I had quite expected him to vacate the castle at the first light of dawn. Beside him, King Renaldo rose at once to inquire on the quality of my rest. Both father and son appeared fatigued, though I had no place to criticize, given my own countenance.

Chatting with our other guests, I paid the two little mind until Renaldo, sidling up beside me, requested a word with the queen.

I shuddered. Florian must have told him of my sorcery—
doubtless with horrific embellishments. I attempted a delay, to no avail.

"Please, Princess, it is of no small importance to me.

Thus in due time he, Sophia, and I gathered in the very Blue Room in which Florian half a year earlier had so unsuccessfully tried to revive me. Renaldo perched on his chair, wringing his hands, and I suppressed the urge to do the same. Perhaps I might yet deny witchcraft, or swear it off, should the queen appear sympathetic to this tack.

"Your Majesty," Sophia began. "Please share with us the cause of your anxiety that we might offer succor.

"It is difficult to discuss." The king winced.

"If there be any misunderstanding, we pray you accept our apologies.

"Nay, you are both the embodiment of hospitality ... Your Majesty, Your Highness, I ask leave only—might I this afternoon visit Ferdinand's tomb?"

Inevitably, Sophia recovered first from this thunderbolt. She insisted even that I escort him, as she had obligations with our other guests.

No task ever attracted me less. I found the king's solicitude as disturbing as his earlier disdain. The thought even crossed my mind that he might be luring me to my mother's
fate. Yet no matter how strongly I pleaded, Sophia would not relent. "Courtesy is our weapon of choice at the moment, dear Benevolence, and the one wielded best."

My heart sank still further, be that possible, when the king arrived accompanied by Florian, though I could not say whether the prince or I appeared the more reluctant. Renaldo, for his part, lost in his own thoughts on his skittish mount, so hurried to reach the tomb that he paid his son no heed whatsoever, providing the two of us far too much opportunity to expand on the conversation that had so dramatically finalized my departure from the ball.

"How delightful the pleasure of your company on our outing, I began, using a tone I had learned from Sophia.

"I cannot claim credit for this promotion, he replied, staring straight ahead.

"Indeed you cannot. But you are a most loyal son.

"I endeavor always to protect my father.

"You yet accuse me of enchantment?

"It is dragons on broomsticks I fear most, he answered coldly.

This counter verily struck the breath from my body. "You do not deny it, he spat out. "I knew I was correct. But what is one voice of reason in a multitude clamoring of
'dragons'? Particularly when that one voice has been silenced by the most profound dishonor?"

" 'Tis dishonor to lose a battle? Accept it, dear prince; it is an incontrovertible fact—"

"Prince Chamber Pot
," Florian hissed.

My ears burnt in shame; I could not prevent it. "I did not do that—

"You did not?" Florian's voice shook with fury. "You did not set out to humiliate me in the most calculating, vicious, unforgettable—?

"I was attempting to protect my country!"

"By besmirching my life?" He spurred his horse forward, away from my side.

Oh! That the prince should believe me capable of
splattering
him, as though I had ever once performed such calculated vulgarity ... He did not deserve to be a frog. Not even a toadstool.

At last our party arrived at the glade that held the final resting place, so recently dedicated, of the king and my mother. Sunlight glittered on the Ancienne stone, the mountain's peak high above us.

King Renaldo dismounted as if sleepwalking and stumbled to Ferdinand's tomb, running his hand over its surface.
For a moment I felt a pang of regret that Prince Florian and I abhorred each other so, for dearly would I have loved to exchange an eyebrow at this eccentricity.

"Florrie, come here, the king ordered.

Flushing at his childhood nickname, the prince did so.

"Touch this.

Florian complied, his stance revealing his mortification that I of all people should witness this.

"What does it feel like?" the king asked.

"It feels like rock, Father, the prince answered.

"Yes, but is it ... What temperature is the rock?

"It is
rock
temperature. It feels like the day. Like the air."

"Like the
air?
" the king probed. "It does not feel cold?"

Florian shook his head, as baffled as I over his father's performance.

The king's shoulders fell. "I should have known ... It is of no mind. Let us return to the castle. Blitzen! He snapped for his stallion.

"Father ... Florian glanced uneasily in my direction but could not contain his curiosity. "Pray tell, what be the meaning of all this?

" 'Tis only a dream I had, a ridiculous dream. Last night."

"Please, Your Highness, I interjected, "I should very
much like to know it, for memorable it must have been to bring us to this place.

The king sighed. "Memorable, yes, but of no import. I was abed—in this dream—and through the open window drifted a specter that uttered words I cannot forget. At once I awoke, my room empty and the window sealed. Doubtless it was the wine, or the disturbed sleep that often accompanies a strange environment—though fret not, Princess, for the chamber is most comfortable.

"What did it say, Father?" asked his son.

Renaldo gathered his reins, preparing to mount. "It said—now, let me recite this correctly—it said, 'The last Montagne ruler lies frozen in a tomb of ice, and only the next can find him.'"

"A tomb of ice! Florian laughed. " 'Tis a glorious autumn day—'twould be impossible! That tomb is warm as a bed. You felt it yourself—

The sky whirled about my head. I clutched at my pony's mane.

The king stepped toward me. "Princess, are you quite all right?

"Say it again, I whispered.

"The words? 'The last Montagne ruler lies frozen in a
tomb of ice, and only the next can find him.' Does this have meaning for you?

"My father—" I swallowed. "My father lies in a tomb of ice.

"But that is imposs—Do you know this? Do you know where?

My eyes looked to the snow-clad peak of Ancienne. When I turned back, the king was locked in a wordless conversation with Florian.

At this moment a horrible scream reached our ears: a man, somewhere on the slopes above us, in the throes of agony. The king's stallion started, then bolted at once down the path.

"What was that?" Renaldo exclaimed.

"I do not know, but someone is hurt desperately, I answered, and with no thought but to that of rescue, I dug my heels into my pony's flanks and raced up the mountain.

***

I followed the path to Ferdinand's Wall, assuming as I did that the cries came from a laborer injured there. The next scream, however, proved me wrong, for it emanated from a different slope altogether. At once I turned my pony in this
new direction, beating toward the sufferer through the brush, the terrain untouched by the boot of man. Another scream rent the air, echoing down the hillside. A great crash—and Prince Florian broke through the scrub behind me.

"What do you think you're doing? I snapped, incensed with myself for my fright, and with him for many reasons.

"A prince always rides to the aid of a lady, he answered stiffly.

"Ha! Your father forced you to this."

His silence confirmed my accusation.

"I require no assistance, particularly from so unwilling a savior," I informed him.

"I do not doubt it. But perhaps that victim does."

We rode for some time without speaking, ever climbing. The horrible screams came infrequently, but often enough to assure me that we were on the proper track.

Try as I might, I could not suppress a surge of empathy for Florian, now that I imagined what he must endure as Prince Chamber Pot. Certainly he had tormented me countless times, most of all in my dreams. Yet he also spoke tenderly of his mother, treated his friend Johannes with admirable kindness, and described a romantic notion of love
that in a different setting, with a different man, I would have passionately endorsed. While I could not abide the prince, as a just and compassionate soul I must treat him with the same consideration I would any other ... and defend myself from his accusations.

"I never intended such humiliation, I said.

The prince started at my interruption. "I beg your pardon?

"That night—the attack. I had no intent of
soiling
you. I simply wanted to bop you on the head with a rock. But the spell failed me.

Florian snorted. "So it was incompetence, not malice, that guided your hand?

"Yes!" I answered, even at the time wondering to what exactly I was admitting.

"Is it incompetence that leads you to ruin my sleep, and of late my father's as well?

Now came my turn to frown: "What—I mean, I beg your pardon?

"You feign ignorance? Night after night you invade my dreams—though I would far more enjoy that lovely vision than its living counterpart.

"
I
am in
your
dreams? I might beg instead that you depart mine! And you, too, are far more pleasant in dreamland than in reality—I daresay that asleep you have the makings of a true suitor!

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