A Tale of Two Castles

I would say this. If a guard said that, I would say the other. They wouldn’t be surprised to see me healthy. Her Highness could hardly have told them to expect me to be ill.

 

Three more circuits, and I was ready. I wrung out my soaked cap and put it back on, although the dampness was unpleasant. Then I eased the key out of the keyhole and tucked it into the heel of my shoe where I could get at it quickly.

 

I swallowed over a lump in my throat. Masteress Meenore would want to hear about this, if I did well.

 

The bottom of the bed draperies had a two-inch hem. I found a dropped stitch and pulled, widening the opening.

 

I knocked on the door. In a gay tone, I cried, “Hail! Open, if you please!” I leaned my ear against the door but heard nothing. If they ignored me, I was lost. His Majesty and my masteress as well. I called again.

 

A minute or more passed before I heard the bolt pulled free. I backed farther into the room and clasped my hands pleadingly.

 

The door opened. The guards had changed since Her Highness had come. Luck was with me—half with me, at least. I recognized one of the guards, a young man who had been posted at a fireplace in the great hall and had watched my performance. I remembered seeing him laugh. The other guard was older, with lines of discontent around his mouth.

 

“Thank you, masters. Time passes slowly in here.” I bit my lip. “And I’m frightened.” I truly was. My legs could hardly support me. “So I’ve been practicing my mansioning.”

 

The older guard folded his arms across his chest.

 

I smiled up at them both. “But I need help with a mansioner’s tale that has four characters. A princess.” I ran to the table for my spoon. “Here is my scepter.” I flourished it. “A beautiful princess.” I batted my eyelashes. The younger guard grinned. The older one settled back on his heels.

 

“The second character is a witch, who has the princess in her keeping.” I pulled a blanket off my bed and threw it around me, making a hooded cape. Rounding my shoulders as a hump, I pulled my cap laces forward to suggest a few strands of chin hair. In a crackly voice I said, “I am the witch.”

 

I wished I could do this quicker, but I had to persuade the guards to forget themselves.

 

Straightening, in my own voice, I said, “I need two princes. I can’t portray them.”

 

The younger guard grinned and said, “I’ve always . . .”

 

The older guard sent him a reproving look. My heart sank.

 

But the young guard came to my aid. “Dure, it’s dull enough out there.” He indicated the door with his head. “Where’s the harm? She can’t get past us.”

 

Dure’s mouth relaxed.

 

“Alas, they are impoverished princes, their father being a spendthrift. One prince is as kind and warmhearted as the sun, the other as handsome and brilliant as a star.”

 

This was the first tale Albin had ever taught me, and I was using his exact words, pausing where he used to pause.

 

“Which would you like to be, masters?”

 

The young guard laughed. “You be the handsome one, Dure. I’m handsome already.”

 

The older guard shrugged. His voice was like rough rocks rubbing together. “Onnore, you could persuade a hedgehog to fly. I will be the handsome one, young mistress.”

 

I sat in the chair, pulled the blanket onto my lap, and tossed my head prettily. “I am sitting in a castle window, sewing.” I held an imaginary needle and pushed it in and out of the blanket. “You ride by on your prancing chargers.”

 

They didn’t move.

 

“Walk past me, please.”

 

They did so, awkwardly.

 

“With pride. Remember, you are princes.”

 

They threw their shoulders back.

 

“I am so comely you both fall madly in love with me.”

 

Dure snorted.

 

“Truly, I am half in love already, little mistress,” Onnore said gallantly.

 

“You both return to stand under my window.”

 

They actually came back.

 

“Each of you wishes to marry me, so you begin to argue.”

 

Neither one said a word.

 

I pursed my lips and smoothed the hair on my forehead below the cap. “Why do you think you should have me, Prince Dure?”

 

I watched him think. “Because I am so handsome.” He chuckled. “Onnore, you are not half as handsome as I.”

 

“But I am as warm as the sun.” He laughed. “I can melt your handsomeness.”

 

“Yet I can outwit you and stop you from melting me.”

 

I let them make a few more arguments. The minutes ticked by.

 

With each rebuttal they laughed harder.

 

Finally I cast my imaginary needle over my shoulder and turned the blanket into a hooded cape again. I cackled, “You princelings who love my Soulette, I will not give her to just anyone. The man who can find the magical purse filled with coins . . .” I untied my purse from my belt and shook it so they could hear jingling. I took a silver coin halfway out, then dropped it back in.

 

There is a saying in Lahnt: Silver blinds men more powerfully than the sun.

 

Dure’s mouth dropped open. Onnore rose on his toes.

 

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