“You can’t make me. A princess is bigger than a countess, so you can’t be the lord of me.”
Her guardian sighed. “Mircha in her Cloak of Rains love you, girl, you’re a great deal of work, and that’s certain. But even you can’t command this pain out of my innards, Your Fearsome Highness, so you’ll have to entertain yourself in the residence today.”
Lillia was so upset that for a moment she wanted to let go of the countess’s hand and run away, but a look at Auntie Rhoner’s pale face showed that she really wasn’t well. Still, Lillia had been thinking about the dancing bear ever since one of the chambermaids told her about it the previous evening, and she wanted to see it more than, it seemed, she’d ever wanted anything. “If you feel better later, then can we go?”
“Child, I could feel ten times better and still not feel up to it. Perhaps tomorrow. Now, please, just let me lie down for a while.”
But the countess must have felt a bit sorry for Lillia, because they took the longer way back, through the Hedge Garden. The recent rain had brought a flush of bright new greenery to the sculptured shapes, and since they hadn’t been trimmed for a while, none of the animals were entirely recognizable at the moment, which Lillia liked very much. Was the old lion turning into a big rabbit? Was the noble horse becoming a dragon? She knew returning this way was a small gift from the countess, so she squeezed Rhona’s hand in thanks.
When they got past the guards and into the residence, Rhona guided Lillia to her chamber. “Stay here, dear one. You’ve plenty to do, reading and sewing and your dolls. And if you’re hungry before supper, ask one of your mother’s ladies to find something for you. In fact, would you find one of them now and ask her to bring me a posset of treacle and nutmeg? My head is aching me fiercely.”
Full of foul humors, Lillia sought out one of her mother’s younger ladies-in-waiting and delivered Countess Rhona’s charge, but declined the chance to wait and take the posset herself, something she had enjoyed doing when she was younger. Now that she was older she had more important things to do, and one of them was trying to think of a way she could get down to Erchester to see the dancing bear.
If she had been a boy, Lillia might have chanced sneaking out on her own. Her brother Morgan had done that more than a few times, she knew, and although he’d been punished, it had seemed to Lillia that the punishment had been a small matter indeed. But however lenient Queen Grandmother Miriamele might have been with Morgan, Lillia knew that things would not go so easily for her. Even in the heart of the Inner Bailey, she was not supposed to go off the grounds of the royal residence without a grown-up accompanying her, and often guards as well. Queen Grandmother might be away on a journey, but Lillia did not want to have to look into those fierce green eyes when she came back and admit she had flouted one of the very strictest rules.
But how else could she get to see the wonderful sights waiting for her in Erchester? The chambermaid had told her the bear had a sad face and was the most comical thing she’d ever seen, but she’d said there had also been jugglers and a fire-eater, and Hyrka dancers, and contests of wrestling and other sports. In another day or two it would be all over. What if Auntie Rho was really sick? Lillia would never get to see any of it!
The more she thought about it, the more she realized that she could not leave something this important to chance. If Uncle Timo or even King Grandfather Simon had been in the castle, she knew she could persuade one of them to take her, but they weren’t, so she needed a plan.
She had wandered back into the walled Hedge Garden where she sat on a stone bench. As she swung her legs back and forth, she tore leaves into little pieces and dropped them spinning to the ground. The pile on the walkway had grown almost half a hand tall before the idea came to her. Thrilled, she wiped the sticky green juices on her dress, then charged back toward the residence.
? ? ?
As she approached the paneled door of her mother’s chamber, Lillia could hear voices. One was her mother, of course, and the other was Grandfather Osric. She hoped that was a good sign. Her mother was usually at her kindest when there were other people around.
An experienced tactician, Lillia paused outside the door and tried to hear what they were saying. If they were having an argument, she knew it would be best to go away and come back later, because grown-ups, especially her mother, very seldom did anything nice for children if they were in a bad mood. She was glad to hear that their voices sounded fairly ordinary, although her mother did sound slightly grumpy about something.
“. . . It’s not that simple,” Mother was saying. “They don’t want him to marry yet, although anyone can see it would be good for him. They don’t think he’s ready. Ready!” Her mother laughed, but she didn’t sound very happy. “He’s old enough to be chasing women up and down Main Row most nights.”
“He’s a young man,” Lillia’s grandfather said. “What do you expect?”
She was pretty sure they were talking about Morgan. Apparently her brother did little these days other than bothering ladies, from what Lillia kept hearing.
“Hah! I expect that if we wait long enough, the queen will have him married to some little pussycat of her own choosing, and then I will be pushed out the door! That’s what I expect.”
“You worry too much, daughter. Your son would never consent to such a thing—and neither would I. After all, I am Lord Constable as well as his grandfather. The throne needs me. They will not go out of their way to anger us.”
“I wish it were that straightforward,” her mother said.
Lillia waited for several long, silent moments before she knocked, so that it didn’t seem as if she had been listening. One of her mother’s maids opened the door and Lillia marched in. Her mother was sitting in her chair, embroidery hoop on her lap, and Grandfather Osric was standing in front of the window, frowning as he watched something going on below. Mother didn’t look as if she’d actually started embroidering yet.
Lillia went right to her mother and curtseyed. “Good morning, Ma’am.”
Her mother looked at her and smiled, but it was a tired smile. “Good morning, darling. Aren’t you supposed to be with Countess Rhona today?”
Her grandfather turned. It was strange to see him without a hat, the top of his bare pink head exposed for everyone to see. Ever since she was a very small girl she had wanted to rub Grandfather Osric’s head and see if it felt like the rest of his wrinkly, dry skin, but she had never been allowed to do it. “He’s a duke!” everyone said, as though that had anything to do with what his head might feel like.
“Ah, there she is!” he said now. “My little princess!” But he looked weary too, and he didn’t come over to pat her head as he sometimes did.
“Good morning, Grandfather.” Lillia curtseyed again.
“You haven’t answered my question, child,” said her mother.
“Countess Rhona is unwell.” Lillia looked at her grandfather, who had turned back to the window, and whispered loudly, “She has her courses.”
Another weary smile. “Well, dear, I’m afraid I can’t have you with me today. Your grandfather and I have many things to discuss and you’d just be in the way. You’ll have to play by yourself.”
“But there’s a fair in Erchester! With a bear! A bear who dances—!”
“The countess can take you when her . . . when she’s feeling better. Honestly, Lillia, I simply cannot find the time to watch over you today, let alone take you to a street fair.”
“Can one of your ladies take me instead?”
“No. None of them watch you closely—and the servants are worse.”
Was Lillia the only one in the whole castle who could see that outside the large window the sky was a bright, encouraging blue, and that the spring sun was shining as hard as it could? She scowled, although she knew it was her mother’s least favorite expression. “There’s no one else for me to go with.”
“Then I suggest you read instead. What about that book that your grandfather gave you last time, the book about Saint Hildula? Have you finished that already? If you have, you can tell him all about it.”
Her grandfather looked up, only half-interested, but Lillia recognized a trap when she saw one. Her mother knew very well that she hadn’t read much more than the first page because it had been the dreariest thing she had ever seen, all about a good woman who had never done anything but be a nun until some Rimmersmen came and murdered her, except of course they barely talked about that interesting part at all—Lillia had skipped to the end to see—and instead the book was entirely about how very, very holy Hildula had been before that, and all the visions of Heaven she’d seen, and how much she had loved her lord Usires Aedon.