Authors: Catherine Gilbert Murdock
"If the rumors are correct," interjected Trudy, who had listened most closely to the bearded gentleman's presentation.
"Oh, pooh, rumors are always correct; he's just being polite. Do you see?
Compassion's second son had a—well, you know—a love affair, with this woman here—
Chastity
. A lovely name, though not particularly apt in this situation. But it means that your great-something-something-something grandfather was of royal blood."
"Which," Trudy interjected, seeing Temperance's point at last, "explains my sight! It's the magic blood you're always talking about, that magic royal blood."
"Oh, it's more than that!" Temperance clutched Trudy's hand in delight. "Don't you see? You're my—I'm—we are and we'll always be ... We're family!"
8
TH EDITION
Printed in the Capital City of Rigorus
by Hazelnut & Filbert, Publishers to the Crown
Arriving, however unconventionally, in Montagne, Fortitude quickly made the acquaintance of young Queen Temperance; the two distant cousins formed a bond that would last both their lives. Inexperienced and fearful, Temperance benefited immeasurably from Fortitude's companionship and appears to have truly believed in the other's clairvoyance. Nor was Queen Temperance alone in this regard; too soon the fallacy of Lady Fortitude's psychic powers spread throughout the populace, until every petitioner and diplomat approaching the queen found himself grappling with the nebulous and exasperating question of whether his words—indeed, his very appearance—would make Fortitude, and thus Temperance and all the subjects of Montagne, "happy." Thus the prophetess, however counterfeit, elicited an unprecedented constraint on warmongering and greed; peace flourished, and Temperance's rule came to be known as the Reign of Tranquility. Fortitude's family history may be found in
The Comprehensive Genealogical Encyclopedia of Montagne.
Though courted by many suitors, Lady Fortitude ultimately married Count Rudolph of
Piccolo
, a local landowner who, to honor their nuptials, grew a pumpkin so large that they rode inside it to the wedding ceremony.
They had two daughters.
Faith
, the firstborn, married Temperance's son Henri, and as queen of Montagne counseled her husband as diligently as Fortitude had counseled his mother;
Humor
, the younger of the two, assisted Fortitude with her memoirs (published privately).
The world continues to believe me a murderess—but an incompetent one!
Oh! I am affronted!
Worse, His
Imperial Stupidity
considers mail theft a capital offense—and speaks so explicitly of the
crime
of stealing letters that it is almost as if he anticipated my disclosure and seeks to avert it!
(If stealing letters were truly a crime, I would be dead a thousand times over.)
Were I to reveal my
proof
that Queen Benevolence is a witch, I would be
arrested
!
That
sorceress
has him completely transfixed—at least Handsome has driven off her loathsome feline—it is one small comfort that I have inflicted
some
suffering on that hag of a queen.
Roger pays me no attention whatsoever—and his brother Hrothgar still does not write! Worse, my most brilliant agent—whom I planned to adopt as a
true
son!—is now dead.
Were it not for Handsome, I would be without companionship—yet my friend's amiable camaraderie is all I require—oh, treasured dog, would that you could rule when I am gone!
A P
LAY IN
T
HREE
A
CTS
PENNED BY ANONYMOUS
Act II, Scene v.
Phraugheloch Palace Banquet Room.
Wisdom lies in a glass coffin. Enter Rüdiger IV, Benevolence, Wilhelmina, Roger and attendants.
RÜDIGER: What gruesome draught it must have been to fell this vibrant princess so.
BENEVOLENCE
: A fortnight has passed, and still she neither lives nor dies.
WILHELMINA
: Your Majesty, I beg you hear me out: I had no hand in this crime. I swear it.
BENEVOLENCE
[
aside
]: 'Tis irony indeed that the vixen is penalized for the one offense she did not perpetrate.
RÜDIGER
: Your actions betray your words, Your Grace. Once before a poisoning was attempted on this innocent; this time, good fortune failed her. My duke, tell me: will you obey your vows and attend your bride?
ROGER
: The law would have that I attend her, but my heart cries out that I adore her. O my beloved, I shall be at your side forever!
BENEVOLENCE
: Well phrased, well phrased indeed.
[Aside]
Farina, now bound to this lifeless form! Thus can no alliance be configured against Montagne.
RÜDIGER
: None could ask for more devotion. And yet while Farina has gained a wife, Montagne is deprived of a daughter. Though murder has not transpired, a penalty must still be levied.
BENEVOLENCE
[aside]:
Now comes the unveiling of His Majesty's grand strategy!
RÜDIGER
: Farina, we would you granted this grieving nation Alpsburg and Bridgeriver in recompense.
WILHELMINA
: Two territories, so wealthy? I refuse it.
RÜDIGER
: You refuse the will of the emperor? You would prefer transport by jailer's wagon to the capital of Lax, there to stand trial for attempted murder?
Wilhelmina falls to her knees.
WILHELMINA
: Your Majesty.
RÜDIGER
: Humility becomes you, Your Grace. Would that you displayed it more frequently. My queen, accept you this donation?
BENEVOLENCE
: In bereavement, yes. I shall promptly eliminate the tolls within them, for it does not become a nation to earn its wealth from others' toil.
[Aside]
The emperor has no feeling for our grief, but constraints on trade raise his bile. Nor would Montagne object to more land 'twixt it and this.
RÜDIGER
: This tragedy is concluded. We depart now with our circus, for word has reached us that the Globe d'Or awaits us in the fair city of
Rigorus
with a remarkably new operator, a young woman of no small skill ... You must attend our next performance, Your Majesty...
Exit Rüdiger and Benevolence. Roger embraces Wisdom's coffin.
WILHELMINA
: Observe His Grace. He prefers a silent wife to a speaking mother; such is the gratitude of sons.
ROGER
: O Wisdom! I lodge myself before you; never will we part, my sweet!
>
My Dearest Temperance, Queen of Montagne,
Well, Granddaughter, Rüdiger IV (or as I now prefer to think of him, "
Rüdiger the Just
") has departed for Rigorus with all his entourage, and such an event it was; the parade required an hour to pass through Froglock, with much cheering on the part of the residents, who are apparently yet ignorant of the fact that the duchy's wealth will henceforth be derived from its own citizenry.
As the whole empire knows, Rüdiger has resented for decades Farina's tolls and their deleterious effect on imperial trade; the promise that these fees would be eliminated—combined with his discovery of a uniquely accomplished and fearless operator for his precious Globe d'Or—rendered the man positively giddy. He was equally delighted by the theatrics of the marriage ceremony, and he himself (as we plotted in my suite that fateful night, Dizzy producing handfuls of fire to impress His Majesty and Tips) suggested the curtain behind which Dizzy, once separated from her Doppelschläferin, might hide, and the hat toss to distract the audience during that crucial moment of separation.
Even as his great train of performers and accountants moved through the streets, the emperor sat in a tête-à-tête with that peculiar little Booted Maestro (sporting yet another monstrous plumed hat), the two of them calculating how best to put to use Tips and Violet. Needless to say, a circus is the ideal venue for your sister. I remain in awe of her brilliance, to deduce in a moment the magical foundation of the Globe d'Or—she has never been so clever, but then she has never in her life been so motivated! To be honest, Princess Wisdom would have made a truly dreadful ruler, particularly chafing under Wilhelmina's ungodly thumb: the good folk of Farina should count their blessings that they are left instead with her double. Let us hope that Violet has a long and delightful career with the wondrous Circus Primus, and at the end of each day finds herself crowned only in the transient glory of laurels.
Wilhelmina (I should not gossip so, but I cannot resist) for the duration of the emperor's visit treated him with the most limited civility, begging off every dinner on account of illness—as Rüdiger whispered to me one night, her clipped feathers must be paining her dreadfully! Paining her and others, I'm afraid, for the woman has sequestered herself with that miserable little dog, which bites every unfortunate soul forced to enter her chambers. Would that Escoffier were yet present to drive the beast to distraction!
Through rank, jargon, and ire, I have managed to convince the sawbones yet employed in awakening your "sister" that however they treat my granddaughter, they cannot actually
touch
her; this has put an end to talk of leeches, scouring, purges, draughts, and whatever other quackery doctors will devise for a fee. In this process I was quite assisted by Roger, who displays an endearing devotion to his stricken bride. I suspect that the duke, perhaps only instinctually, flaunts his marital commitment to irritate his mother, which it most certainly does. He has never spoken in Wilhelmina's defense, and it may be that even he suspects her of poisoning Wisdom—given the conniving he has observed throughout his life, he would have no reason to think otherwise—and seeks to communicate his disapproval by treating his bride with the ardor of Pygmalion. However long Violet continues her circus adventure, rest assured that her Doppelschläferin will be safe.
That said, their marriage is not a little monotonous, as is the court as a whole. I fear I have spent far too much of every day asleep, enjoying my Doppelschläferin exchanges with Escoffier. Life in Chateau de Montagne, even through a cat's eyes, is far more scintillating than in this stodgy palace. Had I known the Doppelschläferin spell could operate at such a distance—across nations and through mountains!—I would have put it to use far earlier, though Escoffier is doubtless quite relieved this revelation came so late.
We are both of us, Escoffier and I, observing with the greatest delight your blossoming camaraderie with sweet Trudy. She is one of the kindest, truest people I have ever known, and I am relieved beyond measure that you now have such a trustworthy advisor at your elbow. You are the first in six generations, I believe, to have been gifted with a counselor to the throne. How silly I was not to have recognized that Trudy's sight might serve a greater purpose than stopping spills and wielding buckets!
Your confidence and composure grow daily, my dear, and I cannot ascribe all or even most of this to your new friend. Painful as it may be, hardship tempers us as heat tempers steel; you have emerged from your personal inferno stronger and wiser than ever. I cannot wait to convey this in person; now that Dizzy is safe and negotiations between Farina and Lax are complete (and Montagne firmly in possession of both Bridgeriver and Alpsburg, which shall ease my journey immeasurably!), I can return home. Until then, please accept Escoffier's affection as surrogate for my own.