A sour taste appeared in the back of my throat as I watched Tristan’s father stroll away, nodding his head at those he passed as though he had not just threatened his own son’s life. And mine. Ignoring curious glances, I hurried through the ballroom, desperate to be away from the stifling heat.
The hallways were cool and I walked for some time looking for a way outside. The sounds of shouting and laughter reached my ears, and I followed them onto a balcony overlooking a courtyard filled with racks of weapons. Dominating the space were two enormous trolls – I judged them to be at least eight feet apiece – leaping back and forth across the yard on one foot and shouting insults at each other.
“Those are the twins, otherwise known as the Baron and Baroness, and individually known as Vincent and Victoria.”
I clapped a hand over my mouth to keep from squeaking in surprise and spun around. “You trolls make a fine habit of sneaking up on people,” I accused Marc, who was leaning against the building, cloak pulled up to obscure his face. “And what are you doing out here anyway? Isn’t this your party?”
“I don’t like parties.”
“Oh,” I said, my brow creasing as I tried to make out his face in the darkness. “Then why did you throw one?”
“I owed someone a favor.” Marc shrugged one shoulder and came over to stand next to me. “It was not the worst thing he could have asked for.”
I quietly wondered who he was. I had thought the party had come as a request from the Duchesse, but apparently that was not the case. And it wasn’t the King – he wouldn’t have needed to use a favor to get Marc to throw a party. Which left Tristan. But why? The point of the party was to see whether all the troll aristocrats would give their support to the King’s decision to install me as a princess, which seemed decidedly contrary to what Tristan seemed to want. So why ask his cousin to throw a party that would speed along the process? I bit my lip, realizing with a surety that Tristan was not the passive victim of circumstance that he was playing himself off to be. What remained unknown was the nature of his end goal. As we stood watching the two giant trolls leap around the courtyard, I considered putting the question to Marc but eventually decided against it. “What are they doing?” I asked instead, gesturing to the courtyard.
“Victoria and Vincent are continually having contests to determine which one of them is head of their household,” Marc replied. “Sprinting, rock throwing, javelin tossing, breath holding, handstands… You’ll get the picture soon enough. They’ll probably want you to judge.”
“But Victoria’s a girl,” I protested. Although not like any girl I knew. She was dressed in a coat and trousers like her brother, and only the long braid hanging down her back and her slightly more refined features gave her away as female. “Even if she was born minutes before him, wouldn’t he still inherit his father’s title?”
Marc started laughing. “Best you not ever mention such an idea to Vic,” he said, his shoulders shaking. “She has no time for the limitations of what she terms ‘ridiculous human ideologies’. And besides, their barony was actually passed down to them from their mother. For trolls, the child with the most formidable magic inherits – regardless of whether the troll is male or female, or who was born first.”
“Oh,” I breathed, liking the idea very much.
“The twins, however, are equal in all things, including magic,” Marc continued. “I expect they will be content to share their title for the rest of their lives.”
“Sort of share,” I giggled as the two giants collided with each other, hopping wildly to keep from toppling over.
Both trolls looked up at us.
“Hello there, Marc!” Vincent bellowed. His eyes fixed on me and he set his foot down.
“Disqualification!” Victoria shouted, but her brother wasn’t listening.
He barreled over to us and fell on his knees in front of me. “My lady! You are even more beautiful up close!”
I thanked him and let him kiss my hand, until his sister elbowed him out of the way. “Vincent, you are entirely unoriginal. I am Victoria de Gand, Baroness de Louvois, my lady.” Vincent scowled at her, but he was ignored. “Allow me to say,” she continued, “you are as lovely as a flower in bloom. Especially now that your face is less scabby.”
“Thank you,” I said, smiling at them. “Are you by any chance the Vincent that sat on His Highness’s face when he was a child?”
He shook with laugher. “Yes, indeed, my lady. Though I couldn’t manage the same feat now. Tristan would toss me across the city.”
“True,” Victoria agreed. “No one out-magics Tristan, except for his Majesty. And Ana?s.” They said the last bit together with an eye roll. “She’s a looker, our Ana?s,” Vincent said. “But she’s got the personality of one of those prickly fellers. You know, the ones with the quills.”
“Porcupines?” I guessed.
Vincent pointed at me. “That’s the one. Personality of a porcupine.” He sighed happily. “I do love alliteration.”