Heartless

“I did no such thing. I merely made myself clear. And what do you care? You didn’t exactly treat him as the favored guest!”


“I don’t care,” Felix shrugged, but his long face suggested otherwise. He imagined returning to his fencing practice in company with his attendants, and the thought gave him no pleasure. “Let him go, I say. It’s not like we ever needed him.”

“No,” Una said. “No, we certainly never needed him.”

But she had no appetite that morning.

Weary after her restless night, Una excused herself from lectures and returned to her rooms. As she turned into the east wing, where her chambers were located, she spotted a servant hard at work, mopping. She paused in surprise as recognition slowly caught up in her tired brain.

“Leonard!” She shook her head and stepped down the hall toward him. “I hardly know you without your costume. Where is your hat?”

The jester, looking singularly unjesterly in a baggy brown smock, dropped his mop with a splash and straightened. “Princess Una.” He gulped. “Hullo. Yes, I’ve come to quite a state, haven’t I?”

“What are you doing?” Una demanded with a laugh.

He smiled back, but his smile was forced. “It would seem I am unable to earn my bread with full-time foolery. I must harden myself to the rigors of the baser tasks a man can stoop to, such as mopping the floors of those who . . . Well, it is employment, isn’t it? A fellow must be grateful.”

“Oh,” Una hastened to say, “please, I didn’t intend to make fun. This is only temporary, anyway, isn’t it? You won’t have to work like this for long, I’m sure.”

Leonard raised an eyebrow. “You are kind to your humble servant, m’lady.” He nodded curtly, then stooped to retrieve his mop.

“No, truly, I am sorry,” Una said. “You really are a wonderful jester, you know, and I’m sure you’ll find work – ”

“I have sufficient work, obviously. And don’t you think it odd for a princess to apologize to her cleaning staff?” He bowed and turned away. His arms worked furiously back and forth, pushing the mop.

Una, having never before been brushed off by one of the servants, could think of nothing to say. She hurried down the hall, shaking her head and wondering why she felt embarrassed.

But before she’d gone far, Leonard called after her. “M’lady?”

She stopped, surprised, and looked back.

The jester stood with both hands on the top of the mop stick, rubbing the back of his leg with the opposite foot.

“M’lady, I don’t think you should accept the Prince of Farthestshore’s suit,” the jester said. “When he returns. If he returns.”

Una drew herself up. “I don’t see what business it is of yours, my good man.” She spoke coolly in what she thought of as her regal voice. But the red blotches crept over her nose anyway.

Leonard stared boldly back at her for several moments before averting his gaze to study his feet. “Of course, a floor scrubber’s opinion counts for nothing, m’lady.”

Una hastened on to her rooms.





13

Another suitor announced his intention of paying his respects at Oriana Palace.

“Iubdan’s beard, they’re thicker ’an flies in July, these wooers of yours, Miss Princess!” said Nurse.

“Who is it this time?” Una asked. She scarcely glanced up from the Bane of Corrilond tapestry when Nurse entered the room bringing word. She found herself less able to work up any measure of excitement over the matter than before. So far suitors had afforded her more distress than anything.

“The Duke of Shippening,” Nurse said. “A powerful man, master of Capaneus, the greatest port city on all the Continent!”

Una paused with her needle pulled partway through a bean man’s eye. “The Duke of . . . But Nurse, he’s older than Father!”

“A sturdy age, practically the prime of life.”

“Practically?”

“Close enough, anyway. And his estates are – ”

“He’s been called the largest man south of Beauclair!”

“As I said, he is quite wealthy – ”

“Regarding his girth, not his riches!”

Nurse sniffed. “Good health is always desirable in a spouse. Why, my Uncle Balbo was a man of no mean scope, but he always . . .”

Una ceased to hear Nurse champion the virtues of famous Uncle Balbo as she stared in horror down at her needlework. The bean man she was currently working had his mouth open in a silent scream as he fled the onslaught of the flaming threads. Una felt her own face mirroring his expression. “The Duke of Shippening?” She closed her eyes. “Why me? Why couldn’t some other princess be blessed with such suitors?”

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