The King's Daughters (8 page)

Moving as swiftly as possible in this deep snow, I passed around to the other side of the hedge. A second hedge, running parallel to the one I had just passed, rose right in front of me. Upon seeing it, I knew that I now stood at the mouth of a long corridor of evergreen. The tugging in my gut intensified. My eyes raced to the opposite end of this green alley. The two barbarians stood there, staring at me. Taken aback by their unexpected presence, I froze. So did they, becoming as still as two fur-clad statues.

"Stay there!" I ordered, rushing toward them. To my surprise, they obeyed and remained motionless. I was halfway down the alley when the barbarians broke their stillness and passed behind the second hedge, disappearing from my sight.

"Wait!" I shouted. "Wait!" I tried running, but it was impossible. The snow was too deep and too heavy; I was exhausted in no time. I cursed the hedge for being so tall.
Damnation! Hedges should be waist high at best. Not taller than men.
"Can't these people do anything right?" I grumbled. After an arduous trek through heavy wet snow, I finally reached the end of the alley. Of course by then the pair was gone. All that remained of them were tracks in the snow vanishing into the dark forest circling the castle. Feeling frustrated, I stayed there staring at the forest's somber mass until my feet were numb with cold.

I was about to return to the castle when I felt that tugging at my guts again. It was stronger this time, more insistent, painful even. Clutching my belly, I turned toward the forest. The pain immediately subsided, replaced by the gentle tugging I had first experienced. Then it too stopped.

Gasping heavily, I scanned the forest's edge, seeking the barbarian pair. This was their doing, I was certain of it. And this certitude went beyond a simple gut feeling. I had better find out who they were and why they were here. With this in mind, I headed in the direction of the castle.

I found Milo waiting for me at the garden door. He looked anxious and kept motioning for me to walk faster while dancing from foot to foot.

"What now?" I hissed under my breath, knowing that it could only mean bad news.

"My lord, I'm glad to see you returning. Have you found new clues?"

"I'm not sure what I found, Milo," I replied with a peek over my shoulder. "What about your tracks?"

"I was able to follow them inside the castle. It was easy because the melting snow left a trail of water. Unfortunately, it dried up a short distance between the throne room and the royal wing. After that I couldn't tell which way it went."

"Interesting."

"My lord, on my way back here I encountered Princess Eva."

My heart leapt up right into my throat. "Where? Is she around? How is she? Tell me! Tell me everything!"

"She was looking for you, my lord. Princess Eva seemed well enough, although I must say that she appeared nervous and a bit sad to me. Anyhow, she charged me with this message concerning the coming ball."

"Yes, tell!"

"This ball is a sort of gathering, a celebration. She said that she will meet you there. But until then, she demands that you be patient and also that you prepare yourself for the ball. Apparently there will be dancing involved."

I frowned. "Dancers, you mean."

Milo winced. "Errr . . . from what I gathered
you,
my lord, will be expected to dance."

"WHAT—NO! You must be mistaken."

Milo shook his head. "I fear not, my lord."

"But—but Telfarian men don't dance. It's not proper for a man to dance."

"My lord, this isn't Telfar."

I sighed.
Right
.

I couldn't sleep that night because my mind was buzzing with so many thoughts, it was like a beehive in midsummer. Three days, only three days left before the ball. Three days until I'd see Eva. Only three days to learn how to dance.

I will make a spectacle of myself. Humiliate myself. Ridicule myself beyond repair this time
. I knew it. This thought tormented me so that I spent the entire night pacing around the room, and as a result, once daylight filtered through the colored glass of my window, I felt drained of all energy.

"Milo!" I called.

No answer came.

"Milo, can you boil water?"

Nothing.

Throwing a kaftan over my shoulders, I shuffled my feet to the receiving room. It was empty. I checked Milo's room. Nobody there. I was returning to the receiving room when Milo came through the door carrying an armful of firewood.

"You know you're not allowed to go out alone. Why do you persist in disobeying me?"

Milo lowered his head until his face disappeared behind his pile of firewood. "I . . . I know, but I cannot let the fire die, my lord. I fear we'd freeze if it went out. Or worse, catch some horrible affliction of the lungs."

I sighed. I couldn't really argue with that. I had heard too much coughing since I'd arrived here to question Milo's logic. "Very well then, if you must go out, go. But be careful when you do so."

"Yes, my lord."

I sat down on the couch in front of the fireplace and watched Milo unload his wood and put water to boil. My attention then traveled to the book resting on the side table, a manual of Sorvinkian dance Milo had fetched last night from the castle's meager library. I picked up the book and flipped through its pages.

"Do you wish to try the dancing steps again, my lord."

"Hell no!" I exclaimed. "Our last attempt at replicating these footsteps was enough for me. We'll only end up tangling ourselves in our own feet again and tumbling on our faces. I've got enough bruises as it is." Frustrated, I chucked the dance manual on the floor. "This document is useless. What I need is a teacher. I see no other way to learn these cursed dances."

"Who, my lord?"

I stayed silent. I knew who I should approach for this. I just didn't like the idea of asking for a favor. I'd never liked doing so, too many repercussions. And knowing who I needed to ask made the task ten times worse. "I thought about it all night, and sadly, I came to only one conclusion. (Sigh) I will have to ask Prince Diego to teach me how to dance."

Milo let out a gasp of horror. "The dandy! My lord isn't serious?"

"Deadly so. I see no other option. Plus, he's the only person here who has offered to help me. There is no one else."

"Please, my lord, you must rethink this decision. This prince . . . How can I put this?" Milo paused, a sudden blush colored his cheeks. Nervously wringing the edge of his tunic, he continued, "This prince has a very . . . questionable reputation. I've heard such unsavory tales about him on my outings. I think you shou—"

"MILO!" I snapped. "Do not judge a man by the rumors spread about him. I've once been the subject of false rumors myself. So I don't care to hear the rambling gossips of servants or guards. You hear me."

Milo shrunk down on himself as if he was afraid I would strike him. Perhaps I'd spoken too harshly. Then again, I couldn't suffer rumors. Milo needed to learn this. Truth be told, my decision to seek Prince Diego's help had been hard enough to make all by itself. The last thing I needed was to have Milo's doubts added to mine.

"I suppose we should bring him a gift. What do you suggest we give him, Milo?"

Looking less than enthusiastic, Milo shrugged. "I don't know. Do we have anything lacy?"

I frowned at him. "Milo."

"A kaftan would be appropriate. He seemed to have liked yours very much. Dandies are known for their fondness for clothing . . . so I was told."

"It's settled then. Choose one. I'll dress, then we'll try finding his room."

* * *

Time was now precious to me, so I didn't lose any wandering through the castle, which was an impossible maze, looking for Prince Diego. Instead, I asked a guard to guide us there.

Carrying a small cedar chest containing our gift, Milo slowly shuffled his feet behind me with the enthusiasm of someone being led to the gallows. He was determined to make his disapproval of my decision to seek out Prince Diego's help as apparent as possible.

Ignoring him, I set my sight on the path ahead. The section of the castle we were entering was new to me. Its hallways were broad and well lit; paintings held within large gilded frames adorned the walls. Tables made of exotic woods were placed along the way, displaying ornate vases and silver candelabras. The floor was a shiny mirror of black marble—a far cry from the roughly cut granite of my rooms.

"What is this area? Does it have a name?" I asked the guard.

"Not really. We just call it the new wing."

"Besides Prince Diego, who else has their apartments here?

"The king's nephew. His close friends."

"Ah, Lars."

"We're here, Your Highness," the guard announced, indicating the gilded door on our right.

"Thank you." I waited for the guard to be out of sight before raising my fist to knock.

"My lord, please, we can still—"

"Enough, Milo!" Taking a deep breath, I knocked. I waited a moment. As no answer came I knocked again.

"Prince Diego!" I called.
Perhaps he's not there,
I thought with some relief. Maybe it's for the best. Maybe coming here was a mistake.

I was about to leave when I heard laughter coming from inside the room. I knocked again, louder this time.

The laughter died, replaced by the sound of approaching footsteps. The door swung open and Prince Diego stood at the entrance. Bare-chested and all disheveled, he stared at us with a bemused expression while holding on to his unbuttoned pantaloon, so it wouldn't drop to the floor.

"Prince Amir! What a surprise. I'm—"

Just then a half-naked young lady with long chestnut hair, and an armful of clothes tightly clutched against her body, dashed out of the room. She ran down the corridor and disappeared behind the bend.

I couldn't say I was surprised that he was entertaining, however, the type of company he entertained wasn't at all what I had expected. Somehow this discovery only increased my suspicion toward this foreign prince.

"I apologize for having disrupted your . . . meeting," I said with a little bow.

One of Prince Diego's eyebrows rose slightly. "Please, do not worry about it. In this cursed place, one must amuse oneself whenever possible. Distractions are somewhat slim here." With a subjective glance to Milo, he added, "One is sometimes forced to make due with what's available." On these words, he gestured for us to come in. "Excuse the disorder of my room. I've been otherwise occupied."

Nodding politely, I entered his room. Even though the place was spacious, it seemed small because of the insane quantity of furniture, cushions, artworks, mirrors encumbering it. No space had been left unoccupied; no decorating style had been forgotten either. This place was a mismatch of everything beautiful, rare or gilded. There were Sorelian rosewood benches, Farrellian tapestries, a pair of Atilian gilded chairs. I even spotted a blue enameled Telfarian urn.

"I see that you fancy Telfarian pottery."

"How could I not? Its lines are exquisite in their suppleness. Its glaze flawless. Your people have impeccable taste." His eyes wandered along the length of my body.

I had to bite the inside of my cheek, hard, to control my expression and not let the distaste I felt for this man's appalling behavior expose itself upon my face. Confident that my expression had remained neutral and did not display any hint of my true feelings, I extended a hand toward Milo and said, "How fortunate. I brought you a Telfarian gift."

Prince Diego eagerly approached Milo, and, to my dismay, he ran his fingers through the young eunuch's hair.

Milo winced, yet he stayed motionless with the cedar chest held firmly in front of him.

"What a superb gift. You certainly know my taste, Prince Amir." Prince Diego's hand glided down Milo's cheek to his smooth, beardless jaw and chin, where his hand lingered. "Soft as a sin. He's a real beauty."

"My servant isn't the gift. The chest and its contents are."

"Oooh, pity." Prince Diego lifted the chest lid and pulled out the kaftan that was inside. Milo had chosen a golden-yellow silk kaftan embellished with black arabesque and black fur.

"Fit for a prince, there are no better words to describe your gift," Prince Diego said, wrapping the garment around his shoulders. "I adore it. However, I'm rather puzzled by this spontaneous act of generosity. Will you enlighten me on its purpose, please?"

"I need your counsel."

The long-haired prince produced a dour pout. "It's a pity you didn't come earlier. Before your disastrous introduction to the court would have been preferable. Some of those gifts where of questionable nature." He cringed so forcefully one could've believed that he had just sucked on a lemon.
"Tsk-tsk-tsk,"
gave the prince. "Deplorable faux pas on your part. The saddest part in all this is that it was entirely avoidable. (Sigh) Let's forget that unpleasant event. It's in the past anyway. I'm glad you've decided to accept my offer—even if late. I will counsel you to the best of my ability . . . on one condition."

My throat tightened. Damnation! Why were there always conditions? Hiding my discomfort, I asked, "Which is?"

Prince Diego smiled ruefully. My body tensed up in response. "Simply, that if we are to become friends, we must do away with all these tedious formalities. Let's forget our titles and address each other as friends do. Let's speak each other's names freely."

Relief flooded me; I had feared something far worse than that. "Agreed, Diego."

A look of satisfaction crossed the long-haired prince's face. "Amir." He spoke slowly as if relishing in saying my name without its title. Quite frankly, he sounded far too delighted for my taste. "Tell me the reason of your visit," he said.

"I need you to teach me to dance."

"Really!" Chuckling under his breath, he shook his head. "This is not what I expected, but I can certainly do that. Will you permit me to dress first? I wouldn't want to lose my pantaloon in mid-rehearsal."

"Please do," I said.
By all means, spare me the sight of your bare bottom
.