Heartless

“I am not betrothed,” Una said. “I told the duke no.”


Fidel stood and inspected his daughter. She did not seem particularly altered to him. Perhaps there was some trace of what Nurse called “noble suffering” or some such nonsense, but he could’ve been imagining that. “You are not betrothed?” he asked. “The duke seemed convinced otherwise.”

Una blushed. “I cannot help what the duke thinks. You know that I cannot enter into a betrothal without your blessing.”

“And you know you will have it so long as the man of your choice knows better than to eat soup with his fingers and isn’t up to his ears in debt,” the king said. He looked deep into Una’s eyes, and she met his gaze only a few moments before turning away. “Una, what did you tell the duke to give him the impression that you are betrothed?”

“Nothing, I – ”

“Una?”

Her lip twitched and she sniffed. “I . . . I told him that my heart belongs to another. He asked what that had to do with marriage, and I said, ‘Everything,’ and sent him on his way.”

With this she burst into another one of her recent torrents of sobbing, which her father had not before witnessed. He could not recall the last time he’d seen Una cry and was entirely uncertain what to do about it.

“There, there, child,” he said, patting her shoulder. “There, there. It’s not as bad as all that. He will return soon, I have no doubt.”

“Do you think so?” Una asked, raising her tear-filled eyes. “How do you know?”

“He spoke to me before he set out, of course,” Fidel said, pleased to see how her face brightened. “He promised that he would return as soon as this whole dragon business is settled.”

“He did?” Una beamed like a blaze of sunshine through thick clouds. “Oh, Father, how perfectly wonderful!”

She flung her arms about his neck, and he patted her more comfortably. “I don’t know about perfectly,” he said. “You gave him a pretty harsh send-off, poor man.”

“What do you mean?” Una spoke into her father’s shoulder.

“Well, from what I gathered, he hadn’t much hope, but I am certain he will return even so, and all will be well. He gave his word.”

Una pulled back from his arms and looked quizzically up at him. “I promised that I would trust him, and I’ll wait for him until doomsday if necessary. How can that be a harsh send-off?”

Fidel frowned. “Perhaps he didn’t understand you aright? He was rather dejected when he spoke to me. But no fear. These little misunderstandings are soon cleared away. And I will be proud to have such a man for my son.” He laughed. “Anyone would be a blessing rather than the duke! But don’t let on that I said so.”

Una laughed as well and sniffed back more tears. “I am so glad you feel that way, Father, even if he is poor. But I just know he will succeed and regain his power! You will be proud, though not nearly so proud as I!”

Fidel’s frown returned. “One moment. Regain his power? He had not lost it, last I knew. What rumors have you been listening to, child?”

“I know only what he himself told me. I trust his word.”

“We are speaking of Prince Aethelbald, are we not?”

“Aethelbald?” Una blinked. “Aethelbald!” The corner of her mouth curled.

“If not, then whom have we just been discussing?” Fidel asked.

“Why, Prince Lionheart of Southlands, of course. Leonard, Father. The jester?”





15

King Fidel did not take kindly to this news.

Following the initial explosion, however, he agreed to listen to his daughter’s story and felt he did so with considerable grace.

“So you see,” Una concluded, “Leonard – I mean, Lionheart – couldn’t in all honesty approach you, could he, Father? He did the most right and most honorable thing that he knew.”

The heat of shock having abated somewhat, Fidel restricted his comment to a mere, “I should say he couldn’t approach me, wandering wastrel. We are fortunate he did not try to take money from you!”

Una reflected briefly on her mother’s ring, but passion boiled in her breast and she cried, “Father, must you assume him false? Has he done anything to merit distrust?”

“Yes, I’ll say he has! He’s gone and betrothed himself to my only daughter. A penniless jester, extracting promises from a princess!”

“We’re not betrothed!” Una flapped her hands in frustration. “He extracted no promises from me, but I freely gave my word to trust him.”

“To trust him blindly, without proof that he really is the supposed dead prince of a dragon-ridden kingdom?” Fidel pounded fist to palm. “Would that I had him before me – ”

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