 
### Royal Dilemmas

### By

### Mac Zazski

### Smashwords Edition

### ***

### Copyright 2016 Mac Zazski

***

Royal Dilemmas is the third sequel in the "Royal Consort" series

***

Discover other titles by Mac Zazski at Smashwords.com

***

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it or it was purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 1

Anthony, Earl of Carria, stood with his arms crossed, his dark eyes glimmering in the candlelight as he stared at the map that lay upon the table. He is a young man of twenty three with thick, black hair and a thin, sensitive face. His trim build is immaculately dressed and he seems to possess a great deal more gravitas than a man his size and age should be able to project. Still, despite his youth and his looks, he is the Duke's most trusted councilor and the greatest diplomat of the Duchy of Gronolo.

Beside him his mentor and friend, Thomas, Earl of Mariar stands, a frown growing upon his face. Thomas is middle aged, stocky in build with a face that reflects more years than it has seen. His gray/black hair is unkempt and his face is covered by a straggling and unkempt beard. His great dark eyes stare down at the map, his lips curled in disgust at what he sees, but as is his norm, he says little.

Opposite them both is their sovereign lord, Renaldo, Duke of Gronolo, a man of refined habits, tastes and appearance. In his early thirties, his dark hair swept back revealing an ever growing forehead, he stares keenly at the map, his dark eyes set above a large nose and a wide, thin mouth. When he speaks he gestures continuously with his hands, his voice rough, gravelly and low, while his words today are pointed.

"If we do nothing, we will be swallowed in a gulp," he barks, pointing towards the top of the map in disgust.

"Certainly the King of Darma would not think of moving against us so boldly," states Thomas, his eyes narrowing. "An unprovoked attack against us will allow us to seek allies with a full justification of removing an invader from our land."

"They will fabricate an excuse to attack," rejoined the Duke, "and when they do, what shall we do? We have no time, none! We need allies now, the larger the better, or we will be a providence of the Kingdom of Darma before the year is out."

"Darma grows stronger every day, they seek conquest of all of their neighbors," spat Thomas. "They seek to rival Zambelia in influence..."

"I know what they seek," replied the Duke testily. "I don't care about their objectives, I care about our freedom!"

"We cannot fight them," stated Anthony calmly. "At most, our men can only delay their armies."

"We need to have the King of Zambelia sign a treaty with us," stated the Duke. "With the Kingdom of Zambelia on our side, the King of Darma will never dare make a move against us."

"We have nothing to offer Zambelia, milord," stated Thomas. "I am sure that the Lord Albert would never sign a treaty granting us assistance for the pure pleasure of thwarting the Darmians."

"We offer a buffer state between Zambelia and a growing threat to their northern border, Thomas," replied Anthony.

"Do you think you can sell them on that idea, my dear Earl?" asked the Duke, his eyes narrowing.

Anthony smiled; he was well known for his diplomatic successes and was more than a bit conceited regarding his abilities.

"Leave it to me, my lord Duke," he replied. "Allow me to meet with the King of Zambelia and I promise you that within five minutes, we will have a treaty and the Darmians will be looking for some other small nation to add to their bounty."

The Duke did not return the smile.

"You and Thomas go," he replied. "You take the fate of our nation with you. Go now and Anthony..." Anthony looked up at his master with a serious expression. "For the sake of our people, do not fail us Anthony. For the sake of all Gronolo, save our homeland..."

***

Annalisse, the twenty one year old Princess of Zambelia and daughter of King Alex and Queen Marie, is well known for her ladylike deportment and kindness. In addition to her acknowledged refinement, she is known to be one of the most beautiful women in the entire kingdom, so the casual witness would find her behavior at the moment somewhat surprising. Princess Annalisse was running as fast as she dare from one balcony to the other along the second floor of the castle at Wharton, the King's Palace, yelling with undisguised gusto as two horsemen raced past her upon the green in the garden below. Barely arriving at her station above the galloping riders, she cupped her hands about her mouth and called out loudly.

"HE'S RIGHT BEHIND YOU! HE'S GAINING ON YOU! GO! GO! RUN!"

A large brown horse thundered past the balcony, its rider drawing a bead on a target with their bow as a second horse and rider flew past the balcony mere seconds behind the first. Annalisse watched as the first rider raised the bow and fired. The arrow struck the bulls-eye of a target set upon one of the now barren autumn trees that stood just before the end of the course. The second rider fired a moment later, his arrow close, but just next to the bulls-eye as the two riders raced to the finish of the course.

Annalisse flowed down the stairs from the balcony and out into the garden, her long, curly blonde hair trailing behind her in the wind as she ran towards the two riders who had crossed the finish line a moment before. The riders slowed their mounts to a canter and then coaxed them gently back towards the final bulls-eye to examine the placement of the arrows.

Racing up to the first rider, Annalisse called out happily, "YOU WON! YOU WON!"

Her mother, Queen Marie, smiled down at her daughter and offered her a gentle laugh, "Annalisse, we must be gracious winners."

Her father, King Alex, lowered himself from the second horse, still examining the target with a frown.

Turning to his wife, he offered her a faint smile, "I concede, my dear; you have defeated me."

The Queen offered him a growing smile, "You did very well my love."

"Not as well as Mama, but very well," agreed Annalisse, unable to control her laughter as her father advanced upon her.

Alex is a very tall, large and muscular man with neat brown hair and a matching beard that was speckled with gray. Scooping his daughter up into his arms, he laughed as she dissolved into a fit of giggles, her father kissing her face and chanting quietly, "The loser gets to kiss the Princess, the loser gets to kiss the Princess!"

"Put her down, my love," laughed Marie. "You are all sweaty and dirty."

Alex put down his daughter and drew closer to his wife. Gently reaching up, he placed his hands about her waist and drew her from her saddle, holding her above him a moment, lost in her beauty and then slowly lowering her to his chest. Marie was dressed in her riding clothes, mud spattered upon her tunic and leggings, her hair wild, her face devoid of any makeup and Alex knew he had never seen a more beautiful sight in all of his life.

"Put me down," she said softly, a slight blush rising upon her cheeks.

Alex shook his head and drawing her close, he kissed her tenderly.

"It is the winner's job to console the loser," he smiled, delighting in the feel of her body close to his.

Leaning closer, Marie giggled, "Later..."

With a smile, Alex gently placed her upon the ground and then reached over, taking the reins of the two horses and began to lead them all back towards the barn.

Annalisse stepped beside her mother and placed her arm around her, walking together with her and teasing her father.

"Perhaps Mama should become the King's Champion," she laughed. "She could protect you and represent you in tournaments."

"Your mother wearing armor," mused Alex. "I might like that..."

"I do not think that I would," replied Marie, running a hand through her unruly hair.

Turning back to her, Alex smiled, "And what WOULD the winner like?"

Marie shook her head, "The winner would like a nice warm bath..."

With a bow, her husband handed the horse's reins to one of the guards keeping watch nearby.

"As the victor commands," he stated. "I will draw milady a bath. Does the victor's daughter require anything?"

Annalisse considered it, "Nothing comes to mind at the moment, but I will be more than happy to let you know as soon as I think of something."

With a laugh, Alex headed towards a doorway leading inside, "Of that, I have NO doubt!"

***

Prince Jonathan, Heir to the Throne, rode his favorite mount, Gold Pillar and gave a brief sigh of happiness. An extremely handsome young man with dark hair and soulful eyes set above high cheekbones, he was glad to be drawing closer to home. He had been away for almost a month upon a diplomatic mission for his father, representing the King by attending the funeral of the Sultan of Chanra and was glad that his journey was almost over.

Riding between his two friends, Lord Wilton and Sir Edward as they followed their escort through the town of Wharton he could not help but reflect upon his journey as a mix of success and failure. He maneuvered his horse expertly, his trim, muscular figure, a familiar and welcomed sight throughout the village. Beside him to his right, his friend Wilton cantered along upon a large, gray horse, a happy smile on his round face. Heavyset and strong, Wilton had recently married his love, the Lady Ellen, one of the most renowned beauties in the kingdom. Wilton had taken advantage of the Sultan's untimely death and had used the trip as an excuse to prolong their honeymoon. Returning to Zambelia, Wilton had reluctantly left his new bride back at his estate a short time before, it being but a short ride away on the road to Wharton.

To Jonathan's left rode Sir Edward, the King's advisor and councilor, a thin man with dark hair and a thin, serious face who was becoming one of Jonathan's closest friends and confidants. Edward had become closer to the Prince over the last few years, his advice on a wide variety of matters always welcome.

Jonathan looked past their escort and glanced up at the enormous walls of the castle, his face breaking into a slight smile.

"It is good to be home," he said softly. "I just hope father will not be disappointed..."

"I think it more likely that the Lord Albert will be disappointed," replied Edward, his eyes sympathetic. "He was hoping to make an announcement upon your return."

"It was not the right time," stated Jonathan quietly. "How could I even discuss the possibility of courting Princess Caroline? We were at a funeral..."

"Mind you, the former Sultan of Chanra would have had no problem if the situations had been reversed," laughed Wilton.

"Hopefully Lord Albert will be more interested in how events occurred in Chanra and with our reports on the new Sultan to think much of the matter," stated Jonathan hopefully. "Besides, the Princess and I had very little time together..."

"Privately," stated Edward. "Remember, milord, that when we speak of the matter, we must stress the idea that you were unable to get the lady alone for any length of time."

Jonathan nodded, "Still, I think the trip in every other aspect a success..."

"I wonder how Randy is doing," mused Wilton.

Randy was his and Jonathan's childhood friend. He would have made the journey with them but was forced to decline Jonathan's request because his wife of less than a year, Lady Heather, was with child. Prior to their leaving, Jonathan had learned that Lady Heather, another very close friend and confidant, was not enjoying an easy pregnancy and since the event was in its earliest stages, it was thought judicious that her husband remain at home.

"I hope that Heather is feeling better," stated Jonathan.

"For Randy's sake," continued Wilton.

"It did not seem that the lady's mood was very good prior to our departure," stated Edward tactfully.

Wilton laughed, "I was afraid she was going to kill Randy and gut him like a fish, never mind her mood not being "very good"."

Jonathan chuckled, "You have a gift for understatement, Edward."

"It is hardly my place..." began Edward.

"When Lady Heather is in a mood, there is no safe place," interrupted Wilton. "I am afraid that our friend might be wishing about now that he could trade places with the late Sultan."

"I hope that I do not feel the same after I speak with my father..." said Jonathan softly.

Chapter 2

With his eyes closed, Alex enjoyed the feeling of the warm water and the serenity that he always felt lounging in the stone bath tub that was housed in a room next door to the royal apartments at Wharton. Lord Albert had created the bathing chamber, a large, stone room with a sunken tub large enough for several people that could be filled by a warm water tank at any time of day. Relaxing in the tub was a pleasure Alex enjoyed rarely; usually he bathed quickly prior to starting his work day. Today, however, he stretched out in the tub, a large smile upon his face.

Floating up beside him in the softly steaming water, his beloved wife snuggled up to him, placing her head upon his chest and sighing contently.

"I wish we never had to leave this place," she state softly, unable to contain her smile at the slight echo her words caused in the stone chamber.

"It does feel wonderful," grinned Alex, "and to share it with you, my love, is pure heaven."

"Still," stated Marie, cuddling closer and closing her eyes, "we have work to do; we cannot stay here all day."

A knock at the door caused Alex to shake his head before calling over his shoulder.

"YES?"

"I am sorry to disturb you, your royal highness," called the voice of the captain of the guard. "His royal highness, Prince Jonathan, has just entered the castle gates. He has returned, your highness."

"VERY WELL," replied Alex. "I WILL ATTEND THE PRINCE SHORTLY."

"As my lord commands," replied the captain, his footsteps audible as he drew away down the hall.

Turning his attention back to his wife, he pulled her closer, kissing her and gently kneading her breast. Marie looked up, passion in her eyes, but she pulled away and smiled at him.

"This is the third tub of water I have enjoyed this morning and I have consoled the loser twice already," she laughed. "We should go and see Jonathan, my love. He has been away for a month and there is a good chance that we will be able to make an announcement this evening concerning his courting the Princess Caroline."

Alex considered it, trying not to pout as his wife eased herself away from him and headed for the stone steps that led out of the opposite side of the tub. Rising out of the water, he watched, fascinated, as the water slithered down her beautiful skin. She moved slowly, seductively out of the water, enjoying the feeling of his eyes upon her. Marie was in her fifties now and knew that there was a tinge of gray in her auburn hair. Gazing down, she saw that her breasts rode slightly lower than they once had, that her waist was perhaps a smidge larger, but glancing over her shoulder she saw the longing in her lover's eyes and knew that none of it matter to him.

Rising from the water, Alex made his way towards the stairs, his large muscular frame causing the water to scatter before him. Rising up onto the stone floor that surrounded the tub, he wrapped his lady love in a towel and kissed her tenderly.

Alex smiled, "I love you, Marie..."

"As I love you, my Alex..." said Marie softly, reaching up to kiss him softly upon the lips and then retreating to wrap her robe about her.

Alex' frown grew deeper behind his beard, "Let us go and see our son..."

Wistfully, Marie watched him slide his robe on, "Very well, my love, my one and only."

***

Randy grasped Jonathan into his arms, hugging him happily.

"It is about time you have returned," he stated, reaching over to pat Wilton on the shoulder.

Randy was the tallest of the three friends, thinner in build with bright red hair and a long, happy face. Soon to be a father, he seemed content and settled with his new life, something that Jonathan hoped to speak to him about in the days ahead.

Looking about the study, Jonathan could not contain his surprise at having found his friend here instead of Albert or his father.

"Lord Albert will return shortly," stated Randy, reading his friend's expression as he stepped back. Taking a chair, he motioned Wilton and Jonathan to join him. "He has gone in search of your father; he thought it would be easier if you made your report once."

"How is Heather?" asked Jonathan.

Randy frowned uncertainly, "I suppose she is well. She is rather moody; I suppose it is the morning sickness. Some days she is very pleased to see me and then there are other times when I fear for my life..."

"It does not sound as if she is any different to me," laughed Wilton.

"And how are you now that you are an old married man?" asked Randy.

It was Wilton's turn to frown uncertainly.

"Ellen is very beautiful and I love her dearly, but she does like things..."

"Things?" asked Randy.

Wilton looked to Jonathan, who spoke in a low tone, "On our trip, the Lady enjoyed shopping a great deal."

"I had to borrow money," stated Wilton, a perplexed expression overtaking his features. "I had brought three times what I thought the journey would cost and she managed to spend it all and then more. I must say, I had no idea that marriage was such a costly proposition."

"Once you have settled into your new estate, I am sure that things will settle down," replied Randy, glancing at Jonathan and surprised to see that his friend appeared not to agree with his assessment.

Wishing to change the subject, Randy smiled, "And what is the news concerning you and Princess Caroline?"

Now it was Jonathan's chance to appear uncertain while Wilton answered.

"The Princess appears even more beautiful than when last we saw her," he stated happily. "Mind you, we were all supposed to be in mourning, so it was a little hard on Jonathan to speak of anything...romantic..."

"She is very lovely," agreed Jonathan. "She is kind and considerate, but the venue did not allow me to...well, it was the wrong time to say anything."

"But what about on the journey home?" asked Randy. "Surely the two groups traveled the same route at the beginning..."

"No," replied Jonathan. "The Albrians left two days before our party left and we did not overtake them. The situation in Chanra required that we linger after the funeral to ascertain certain facts."

"And what facts were those, your royal highness?" asked a voice at the door.

Looking up, Jonathan smiled as Albert entered the room, a large smile upon his handsome face. Albert was of medium build, his wavy hair having turned a beautiful silver/white. He was Jonathan's surrogate grandfather and teacher, advisor and friend to all three of the boys. Entering the room, he was soon surrounded and hugged by each in turn. Taking a seat at Jonathan's desk, he watched as the door once again opened and Edward joined them.

"His majesty will be with us in just a moment," he stated.

It seemed that immediately the door again opened and Alex and Marie both entered, crossing to their son and embracing him and then the others in turn. Giving their seats to Alex and Marie, Wilton and Randy stood behind Jonathan as Albert repeated his question.

Jonathan grimaced slightly and with a glance at Edward, began.

"We believe that the Sultan was murdered by his second wife and his second son," he stated softly.

Marie could not contain her surprise.

"Murdered by his son?"

"I am afraid so, milady," stated Edward. "Upon our arrival, we found that the Sultan's second son and second wife had been imprisoned. A trial was held one night during our stay. We knew nothing about it until later and by then the two unfortunates had been executed by the order of the new Sultan."

"It took some time, but we were able to piece together enough information to obtain the story," stated Jonathan. "It seems that the second wife and second son had decided to remove not only the Sultan, but his first son and his first wife and seize power. They ended up killing not only the Sultan but several of his guests at a banquet where they had poisoned most of the food. Unfortunately for them, the first son and first wife had displeased the Sultan earlier in the day and he had forbidden them to attend him that night, which spared their lives. Upon learning the facts, the new Sultan immediately had them put to death along with several accomplices."

"It was very disturbing, your majesties," stated Edward. "The new Sultan is, as you might imagine, rather suspicious and uneasy. We offered him your most sincere condolences and reaffirmed the friendship of our kingdom to their own. I believe he trusts us at the moment, which is to say, as much as he trusts anyone at the moment..."

"How horrible," stated Marie, glancing at Alex, who seemed lost in thought.

"Perhaps it would be best to send a special envoy to the new Sultan," murmured Albert, glancing at Edward as he spoke.

"I would agree with your lordship," he replied. "I fear that the situation is...unstable."

"What did you think, Jonathan?" asked Alex.

Jonathan considered it and then spoke, "I think that we need to reassure the new Sultan that he has friends. I think it would not only strengthen our friendship, but would help to protect our merchants who have business dealings with Chanra. I cannot imagine what being betrayed by your own family in such a manner would do to a ruler, but it cannot be anything good..."

Alex nodded, "Very well. Albert, do you have anyone in mind?"

Albert shrugged, "I would have chosen our old friend Bartran in the past, but he has made it clear that he no longer wishes to leave the kingdom for any reason."

"What about Lord Chester?' asked Jonathan. "He would seem to be a good choice..."

All eyes turned upon him, making him feel uncomfortable. Jonathan hated being the center of attention, had learned to live with it, but would never enjoy it.

"Why Lord Chester?" asked Alex softly.

"Well," began Jonathan, "he is one of the most beloved men in the kingdom. He has an international reputation and is known for his intelligence and humor. If I were the Sultan, I would think that I would want someone intelligent around me now and having just lost his father and having been betrayed by members of his own family, we know that there is a dearth of humor in the palace."

Alex chuckled slightly, "There is no more companionable man I know of and certainly no one more intelligent or diplomatic. What do you think Albert?"

Albert smiled, "I think that our young Prince has a good head upon his shoulders. I think Lord Chester would be an excellent special envoy!"

"I will send a request for Lord Chester to join us immediately," smiled Edward.

Leaning back against his chair, Albert's smile grew, "Now, milord, what about that "other" matter we had discussed prior to your departure?"

Jonathan grimaced slightly and looked down at his hands.

"I am afraid, Lord Albert, that I did not have the opportunity to speak with the Princess Caroline beyond the exchanging of some pleasantries during the funeral."

Albert glanced at Marie and then Alex, his face dropping into a frown.

"You had NO opportunity?"

Jonathan continued to look down at his hands, "Once the three of us understood the situation, there were inquiries that had to be made. As you can imagine, Albert, we had to be far more diplomatic and tactful than normal, given the circumstances. Honestly, there was never a good time for the lady and I to have the conversation, milord..."

"Is there a problem son?" asked Alex, certain that Jonathan was not saying all that was on his mind.

"I am not sure, father," replied Jonathan softly. "I mean no disrespect to the lady, certainly. It is just, well, it is just difficult to know..." he gestured vaguely with his hand, lost for words.

"She is a fine figure of a young woman," coaxed Albert.

"Quite beautiful," agreed Randy.

"Very lovely," stated Marie softly.

"She seems very pleasant in her manners," continued Albert, searching for what was bothering his Prince.

"She is a wonderful young woman, Albert," agreed Jonathan, "it is just that we have had so little time together..."

"You were in Albria two months ago," suggested Wilton, not at all being helpful.

"Yes," conceded Jonathan, "and she was most pleasant, but again, we did not have an opportunity for private conversation."

"Perhaps we should discuss this at a later time," stated Alex, drawing the discussion to a close as he rose, towering above the rest of the group. "Your sister, Annalisse, is waiting to see you as is Stasha and I do not wish to upset either of them."

"It would not be wise to do so, milord," stated Albert with a chuckle, knowing how his wife would react. "Very well, why don't you boys go and meet with your friends. We can gather again tomorrow to discuss...other details."

Marie rose, wrapping her arm around her son's waist, "Come, let us go and see your sister. She is most anxious to speak with you."

Walking out of the room with the others trailing behind them, Alex stayed back and spoke quietly to Albert.

"Perhaps he has changed his mind."

"Perhaps," agreed Albert. "She is a fine young lady..."

"Sometimes," mused Alex, "even a fine young lady is not enough."

***

"If you continue to gawk at me as if I were some sort of circus attraction, I will make you all wish you had never been born!"

The group of young women standing in the audience chamber shrank back en masse, offering the Lady Heather a wide berth. A pretty young woman with brown hair and a lovely face, the lady was just beginning to show signs of her pregnancy, a slight roundness to her stomach no longer concealed by her outfits. Glaring at the young women who had come to fuss over her, she found only one brave enough to continue to hover nearby.

"You should not become angry, Heather," stated Lady Pauline, looking mildly at her cousin's flashing eyes. "It is not good for you or for the baby. Besides, a new life is always cause for excitement and congratulations."

Heather looked at Pauline, meek and mild, her round face housing large, sincere hazel eyes. Pauline was dressed more plainly than any of the other people at court, her natural reticence and plain façade normally making her fade into the background anywhere she went. Still, she was Heather's favorite traveling companion and the only friend she had who, of late, was capable of dealing with Heather's increasing mood swings.

"I do not wish to be the center of attention," hissed Heather. "I am with child, not on parade!"

"I know you are not feeling well or you would not act so," stated Pauline gently. "I am certain it is not easy on you feeling unwell all of the time, but I would think it will be well worth it once your child is born."

"Well, once they are born, I will have a few choice words to share with them, I can assure you of that," snapped Heather. "Any child who makes their mother's life this miserable prior to birth had better be the very model of saintly behavior once they are born!"

Pauline smiled, "Once they place that little one in your arms, you will forget all about the sickness you endured..."

"You sound dangerously like Randy," replied Heather, her eyes narrowing. "If he keeps telling me how happy I will be once I give birth, I will make him pray that he had insulted a dragon instead of upset me..."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" asked Pauline softly. "I know you have not been eating well..."

"I eat fine," replied Heather, "it is the keeping of the food that I do miserably." Closing her eyes, she shook her head, "I have the oddest cravings, Pauline. Yesterday I sent Randy for lemons, I wanted a lemon so badly that I could have screamed."

"Did he find you a lemon?" asked Pauline.

Heather offered a slight smile, "He rode all over the village and finally found some and then rushed back to me. He was prepared to make lemonade for me, but I told him, no and I ate them as you would eat an orange. Well, not quite as you would eat an orange...I ate them with some olives..."

Pauline worked hard not to grimace, "Lemons and olives...how...delightful."

"It should have been disgusting," replied Heather with a light laugh, "I know it should have been disgusting, but I had such a craving for it that I could not control myself." She began to laugh, "There was Randy, cutting lemons and handing me olives. The poor fellow, he's the one who should have been sick..."

"In truth it sounds revolting," agreed Pauline with a crooked smile. "Still, he must love you very much to cater to you so."

Heather looked at her bashfully, "He does love me and I love him. God knows I love him a great deal less since I have become pregnant, but I do love him..."

"Lady Heather!"

The two women turned to see Lady Stasha, Lord Albert's wife coming towards them. Lady Stasha was a chubby, beautiful, grandmotherly woman with brilliant white hair and a kind and happy face. Stasha ran the household for the King and Queen and was as beloved as her husband. Drawing closer, she embraced Lady Heather and then stepped back to look at her, holding her hands as she did so.

"You're so tiny," she laughed. "I thought you would be as round as Lord Chester by now."

The women standing nearby giggled and drew slightly closer, assured of their safety by the presence of Lady Stasha.

Heather shook her head, "Not yet, but I do not doubt that I soon will be. I can keep nothing down and am ill most of the time."

"The former Queen was like that when Lord Ernest was born," stated Stasha. "I hope that isn't a bad omen."

"Please do not wish a child on me that is like the Lord Ernest," replied Heather with mock indignation. "I have been abused for three months now, I do not wish to be the object of practical jokes and mischief for the rest of my life."

"It makes for an interesting household, I can tell you that," laughed Lady Stasha. "I would not worry about it, however. Remember that the King and Lord Ernest are twins, so she gave birth to the King at the same time. You have a fifty fifty chance."

Placing an arm around the younger woman, she began to guide her out of the audience chamber.

"You shouldn't be on your feet, come, let's get you some place nice to sit and relax and I'll make you some tea."

"Come, Pauline," called out Heather over her shoulder.

"Your cousin, Lady Pauline?" asked Stasha, turning and just then noticing the young woman hovering in the background.

"Hello, Lady Stasha," said Pauline softly.

Stasha placed an arm around Pauline and drew her closer as she continued forward with Heather.

"I didn't even see you standing there," she laughed. "You're so quiet, you're like a mouse."

"She is the only one who can stand me," confessed Heather. "I think Randy would have run away by now if Pauline were not here to help him."

"I'm sure you're not that bad," smiled Stasha, "and if you are, well that's just tough. You're having a baby; we all have to make allowances."

Pauline smiled as Stasha led them away, they would certainly have to make allowances...

Chapter 3

Swathed in heavy furs, the Earl of Carria rode a beautiful gray mare towards the mountain pass, his escort surrounding him, but keeping a respectful distance. Thomas rode beside him, muttering about the cold and the increasingly thin air.

"The problem," began Anthony, ignoring his friend's misery, "is that we appear to have very little to offer the King of Zambelia. That will make the negotiations interesting and more difficult certainly. That is where all of the skill of the thing comes into play."

"He should sign a treaty with us just for keeping all this damn cold on our side of the mountains," grumbled Thomas.

"I am sure that their side of the mountain is equally cold," laughed Anthony.

"Do you really think you can talk him into a defense treaty?" asked Thomas. "Let us face facts, Tony; Zambelia has nothing to gain from a defense treaty with us. I know you're a good talker, but for the life of me, I can't think of what you'll say that will keep those damn Darmians out of our country..."

"The King of Zambelia is known for his kindness," smiled Anthony. "Also, his wife is known for championing the causes of the poor. Well, we are not a wealthy nation and we have the advantage of being the underdog in this entire affair. I believe I might find an ally in the Queen; hopefully she can help to influence her husband..."

"Seems a damn thin hope," grumped Thomas. "I know you have a way with the ladies, but from all accounts she's desperately in love with her husband and not easily flattered."

"I will not only hope and flatter, Thomas," smiled Anthony. "I will of course work very hard to show the King the benefit of a buffer state between himself and the Darmians. With a free Gronolo, he can reduce the number of troops he maintains in our area of his northern border. Finally, we are not completely without resources and benefits, even to a prosperous and wealthy nation like Zambelia. There are trade routes and merchant agreements that we can offer..."

"I just pray it is enough," growled Thomas. "I have no wish to pay tribute to a Darmian overlord, or any overlord for that matter. What is ours is ours, why do they wish to take it from us?"

"For the same reason that the powerful always seek to hold it over the weak," stated Anthony with a dismissive wave of his hand. "We must remember that we are not weak, we still have a fighting chance and I for one plan to make the most of every opportunity!"

"If we ever needed your silver tongue, it is now," stated Thomas softly. "I believe THAT is the most important asset that we have..."

"I pray you are wrong," stated Anthony, "but if not, I know that I will be ready."

The two men rode on in silence. Thomas had a healthy respect for Anthony's abilities, but he prayed that his friend's own well known respect for his own abilities did not blind him to the possibility of failure. Anthony was a good man, but his triumphs had given him a swollen head at times. Pride was always something to be aware of and to avoid in Thomas' mind. Glancing at his companion he frowned; no matter what, Anthony still embodied their best hope of success.

***

Princess Donna, wife of Prince Ernest, was dressed in one of her most exquisite gowns, a deep, dark red gown, with an inlay of pearls about the girdle of the garment. Wearing diamonds at her ears, fingers and throat, with her beautiful black hair styled about a delicate tiara, she looked like the princess of a storybook come to life.

Before her stood the three men in her life, her husband and her two sons. The three were lined up as if there were soldiers on parade, but unlike soldiers, the three of them were almost completely covered in mud. Their faces were streaked with dirt and their hair was tangled beneath clumps of mud and ooze. All three did their best not to meet Donna's gaze, each one finding something infinitely fascinating to stare at on either the patio floor or in the sky each time her eyes met theirs.

Drawing closer, Donna pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes and finally, after counting to ten, let out a slow breath. At least they had the sense to be ashamed, she hoped. No, argued a little voice in her head, they are just afraid of getting in trouble...

"Who started it?" she asked evenly.

The two little gentlemen standing on either side of the large gentleman in the middle glanced briefly at him in an accusatory way before returning their glances to the floor.

"Ernest, was it you?"

Prince Ernest, brother of the King, the King's most intimate companion and advisor stood covered in mud, squinting as if trying to remember something that had happened long ago.

"There is the possibility that I suggested it, now that I think of it, my love," he replied softly. "Still, in my defense..."

"You asked your sons to join you in a mud fight?" she asked.

"Not join me," he replied reasonably. "Oppose me! It would make no sense for us to join forces since that would leave us with no opponent."

"We are having visitors in less than ten minutes," hissed Donna. "Your brother and Marie asked us to meet with the representatives from Janaer on their behalf! I had both of the boys dressed and ready to greet our guests and you suggest that they go out into the garden and fling mud at one another?"

"And at Daddy as well," stated eight year old Joseph. "After he showed us how to do it, he made sure that he took his fair turn..."

"The rules are simple, Mama," added little Peter, age four. "First, you make a big mud puddle and then you pick up a handful and throw it at one of the other people and then they throw it at you until you have mud on you and then you see who is dirtiest..."

"You see who is DIRTIEST? LOOK at the three of you!" snapped Donna, her patience finally breaking. "You are filthy! Your new clothes are ruined AND we have people arriving in a few minutes!"

"Do I have to take another bath, Mama?" asked four year old Peter. "I took one this morning..."

"YES you have to take another bath!" replied Donna. "When you have a mud fight, it ends with you having another bath! Did your father forget to inform you of that little fact?"

Peter frowned slightly, "As a matter of fact, he did..."

"I suppose we should go and wash up," stated Ernest quietly, sensing that on some level, his wife was hoping that he and his sons might be clean again.

"Do you THINK so?" asked Donna, her eyes blazing.

None of the three answered her, even little Peter certain that her question was rhetorical.

"Well, come my lads," smiled Ernest. "We have to go and wash..."

"STOP!" yelled Donna, raising a restraining hand but making sure not to touch any of them. "You are NOT walking through the house covered in mud!"

"Perhaps we could take a bath in the fishpond," suggested Joseph, attempting to be helpful and failing miserably.

"NO!" snapped his mother. "Take your things off out here and then run inside and get in the tub! I will keep our guests occupied until you three groundhogs have finished cleaning yourselves! Now get undressed and hurry or so help me, I will lead our guests into the bathing room and introduce them to you while you have no clothes on!"

The three immediately began to shuck their clothing as Donna wheeled about and called out for one of the serving girls named Amy.

Amy approached quickly and curtsied as Donna stood, eyes closed, shaking her head.

"Amy, please go to the boy's rooms and get their blue outfits, you know the ones..."

"With the golden buttons, milady?" asked Amy softly.

"Yes, those," replied Donna. "Bring them to the bathing room so they can get dressed there. Also, send Arnold to remove those clothes and clean up this area, please."

"Of course, milady," replied Amy, working hard to suppress her smile.

Amy had only been working for the Prince and Princess for two years now but every day was a new adventure with Lord Ernest and the boys around. With a quick curtsey she was off to look for the clothing.

Donna turned back just in time to see her husband and her sons in their undergarments running towards the door leading to the stairs leading upstairs where the bathing room was located. As they scurried out of sight, the doorman appeared and bowed.

"Your guests have arrived, your royal highness," he announced formally, working hard not to notice the large area of mud splattered upon the patio.

Donna offered him a tight smile, "Thank you. Please show them into the library, Edgar. Take your time, the prince's will be somewhat delayed..."

***

Lord Albert and Alex sat opposite Jonathan in the King's study. Alex was worried that he might be pushing his son into a situation that he had no wish to be in, but he also knew that Jonathan was shy and might be seeking assurances regarding courting the Princess Caroline.

"She is a lovely young woman," stated Albert gently, "you seemed much taken with her..."

"She is very beautiful," agreed Jonathan. "I would be mad to complain about her appearance, she is extremely lovely."

"Has she upset you in some way?" asked Alex gently.

"No, she has been nothing but kind to me, Father," replied Jonathan with a smile.

"Have you heard some ill report concerning her?" asked Albert.

"No, Albert, nothing like that..."

"You seem," stated Alex, pausing, "hesitant..."

Jonathan looked at the floor, "It is a big step, Father, asking someone to allow you to court them..."

"The courting period, Jonathan, is a chance to get to know someone better," replied Albert gently. "The idea is to find out if you are suitable companions for one another. Look at your friends, Wilton and Randy; both courted and married their spouses. It was only after they learned about them during the courting period that they took the step towards matrimony..."

"I understand that, Albert," said Jonathan quietly, "but it is different for me. If Wilton or Randy felt they had made a mistake, while it would have been awkward to break off the courtship, it would have been possible. If either of us realized that the situation was not a good one, we would both have to face other considerations..."

"It is true," agreed Alex. "We would not wish to offend the people of Albria, but if things were not to work out, we would act in a diplomatic manner, we would do our best to minimize any hard feelings. In that regard, you would have a great deal of assistance and I would hope that it would not enter into your considerations."

"But it must, Father," stated Jonathan with a slight frown. Glancing up at his father, he continued, "I mean no disrespect, I pray you know that, but did you not have these questions when you were considering...the same situation?"

Alex leaned back and squinted his eyes as he thought back over time.

"It was different for me, Jonathan. When I was your age, we were at war, first with Darma and then, when I was a little older, with Vesek. The idea of my courting anyone was constantly being delayed because there were other, more urgent situations that needed attention. Then when my father died, courting seemed an impossibility. If you think it is bad being a prince and trying to find a lady love, you should try it while being a king," laughed Alex softly. "I know the agonies you go through asking someone for so little as a dance. The gossips have you married by the time the music finishes playing..."

Jonathan and Albert gave a small laugh.

"I was so fortunate because before I had to consider courting anyone in earnest, I was married to your mother." Alex smiled at the thought of his bride, "I realize that while it worked out for me in a most wonderful way, marrying by treaty is not the best way to find a bride and it is not the way I had hoped you would find one."

"What about you, Albert?" asked Jonathan suddenly. "Were you not worried when you asked Stasha to court you?"

Albert laughed and patted Jonathan's hand.

"No, no, not at all," he chuckled. "I will never forget seeing Stasha for the first time. She was the daughter of one of the ladies in waiting to your grandmother. I spied her in the garden at a party and lost my heart immediately. It took me weeks to work up the courage to speak to her, me a lowly squire presuming to speak to such a vision." He laughed again. "I told her the first time we spoke that I wished to ask her father's permission to court her and she refused and called me crazy! I persisted and finally, she relented. No, Jonathan, no, I had no fear when I asked to court her because before her father said yes, I knew that I would be back to ask him for her hand and I could not wait for the time to pass until I could."

"I would like that," said Jonathan. "I would like that certainty, that connection..."

"But it is not always like that, Jonathan," said Alex. "Look at Randy and Heather. You yourself told me that growing up, they could not stand one another..."

"Heather could barely tolerate any of us," corrected Jonathan. "Randy probably liked her well enough when we were teenagers..."

"Still, it was not love at first sight," responded Alex. "Some loves are like lightning, they strike like Albert and Stasha. Some are like your mother's and mine, it took time, trust builds and then you find yourself in love. Perhaps you are destined to have lightning or perhaps you are not, but the most important thing is to leave yourself available for it to happen."

Jonathan considered his words. Looking up at the two of them, he became thoughtful.

"Would it be possible to spend more time with the lady before I make up my mind as to whether to ask her?"

Alex looked at Albert, who seemed slightly disappointed with the suggestion, but whom, after a moment, offered him a shrug.

"I could request the young lady to be present for some sort of special occasion," stated Albert, rubbing his chin in thought. "If I am not mistaken, the anniversary of your slaying of the dragon is soon at hand..."

Alex frowned, "That is not something we have ever celebrated before..."

Albert laughed, "It is as good a time to start as any and it could be the excuse for a celebration. You could host a tournament and invite knights to compete for a prize. It would be a chance to bring the two young people together and then Jonathan might have a chance to make a decision."

Alex looked to his son, "What do you think, Jonathan?"

"It does sound like something that could be celebrated," he replied quietly. "It would allow me more of a chance to speak to her and perhaps get to know her a bit more..."

"Very well," replied Alex. "Albert, you and Edward and I will meet this evening and come up with a plan. By the end of the tournament, perhaps Jonathan can make an informed decision."

Chapter 4

Lord Parker sat on the main patio at the rear of his estate wrapped in a fur cloak, the cold air causing him to become more mentally alert than he had felt in some time. Staring out over the browning lawns and dying gardens that sat just beyond a low hedge that surrounded the intricate mosaic floor he snorted slightly and drew his cape closer. Parker was in his late thirties, but looked slightly older; his handsome face beginning to show a hint of the strain his life style was placing upon him. He glanced over his shoulder and sighed, his wife, the Lady Susan was running errands today; a relief to him as his thoughts took a darker turn.

He had been married to Susan for over eight years now and she still appeared as young and as stunningly beautiful as she had been when they had met. Parker did not know that his wife was a powerful, though untrained, sorceress, nor did he suspect any of her machinations to take the throne of Zambelia for herself.

As part of her plan to seize power, Susan had led Parker into a life of lust and debauchery, a life that he believed was his secret. Parker's numerous adulteries had surrounded him in a web of lies and compromises that he found almost impossible to keep track of anymore. Added to the weight of his infidelities, he had impregnated multiple partners almost all of whom he was supporting, creating a tremendous draw on his once opulent income. To make matters more desperate, Susan was redoing their estate yet again, spending money like water. All of these demands were leaving him, once one of the wealthiest men in the kingdom, almost completely destitute.

Sitting upon the patio, his mind drifted to the young chambermaid he had bedded last night. She had been exquisite; her body, her lips aching to receive him, to torment him with the warmth of her passion. He remembered the feel of her body, the sweetness of her breath, the way she surrendered to him, begging him to take her. He closed his eyes for a moment; whatever else he was, he was irresistible to women. They seemed to fall at his feet, begging him to make them his. He had no idea that his wife had orchestrated many of his trysts, their staff filled with women employed for the sole purpose of offering her husband the opportunity to enjoying multiple affairs. Susan wanted Parker trapped and desperate; it was just a small part of her larger plan to seize power.

He thought of his children. There were seven bastards to be supported and several more on the way. He had become quite adept at getting his former partners married off, arranging for them to become the wives of some of his servants or of businessmen who had dealings with his estate. So far, he had been able to hide the fact from all of the men that their wives were pregnant prior to the wedding, or that they were made pregnant by Parker at least. Several had become pregnant from him after their marriage, but to his new way of thinking, it barely mattered. The women had him over a barrel; all of the children looking like miniature versions of Parker, something that his sorceress wife had made certain would be true. Rumors were ripe in the village about whose children they were, but no one dared to say anything to Parker or Susan. Money kept the mothers quiet and when his rank failed to keep one of the others silent, intimidation could be brought to keep them in line. Parker had become increasingly ruthless with those who might seek to cross him, even though he continued to appear pleasant enough on the surface. As for his wife, everyone knew that Susan was not an easy proposition to deal with even in the best of times. His wife demanded homage, whether for her station, her beauty or, in the bedroom, her prowess.

The one child, he mused, that looked nothing like him was the one child who was "legitimate", his son Jacob, by his first wife, the Lady Gertrude. He thought back to his first marriage, to that all too brief carefree, hopeful time and he felt like weeping. How in love he had been, how absolutely happy... Gertrude had died shortly after giving birth to Jacob and in his grief, Parker had gone mad, almost killing himself on a wild ride through the forest. It was there that he had met Susan, she had been all sympathy and so stunningly beautiful that he had married her almost immediately. She was so beautiful, why did he cheat on her? He would have never cheated on Gertrude, somehow of that he was absolutely certain. If she had only lived, how different his life would have been if...

He thought now of Jacob, a strapping boy of ten. Both he and Gertrude were blonde and fair, but Jacob was dark, with dark eyes and dark hair and a somber expression. Parker seldom spoke to his son, indeed, he seldom saw him, the boy spending most of his time with his former father in law, the Count Bartran, Gertrude's father. Jacob and Susan were civil to one another, but that was all and each went out of their way to ignore the other. He had always felt guilty when he saw his son, always felt both his failure as a parent and the distance that stood between them, but lately that had begun to change. He had noticed that when Jacob was around, he began to feel a vague annoyance, a growing indignation that he should be judged by a ten year old.

"Milord," said a voice softly behind him.

Parker looked lazily over his shoulder and saw their new chief steward, Melissa, watching him patiently. It took him a moment to recall, had he slept with Melissa? No, no, not yet, she had only come to them a few months ago, replacing Harriet, their former chief steward. Yes, Harriet had been a wonderful lover, long black hair and dark, dark eyes that seemed to glow during moments of passion. Did she have the baby yet? Yes, it had been another boy, all of his offspring had been boys, a fact that he found odd. Harriet had named him Louis Parker, a not so subtle tribute to his true father. He wondered if his former landscaper, Jasper, suspected that his new bride had had his master's child instead of his own. Glancing back at Melissa again, he cleared his throat.

"Yes?"

"A message, milord," she replied softly, drawing closer and holding a parchment roll in her hand.

Parker took it from her and broke the seal. It was from Lord Albert instructing him that the King would be honored if he would participate in a tournament that was being arranged in honor of the anniversary of the King's victory over a dragon several years ago. Parker squinted in thought, why were they celebrating that now?

Parker had been the Queen's Champion since his marriage to Gertrude over ten years before, a great honor that he had found was now a burden. Every time there was a tournament, he was summoned and had to participate and at the moment, he felt like nothing less than participating in some pageant for the amusement of the King.

His annoyance with Alex surprised him. He had once been close to Alex, had been his squire, had acquired his title and estates from the King in gratitude for his service, but as of late...Lately he had begun to feel dissatisfied with Alex and his wife Marie. While there was no basis for the feeling, the King and Queen having never been anything but kind and generous to Parker, he was beginning to resent what he felt was their attitude towards him. As his world spiraled out of control, he felt that their happy marriage, their wealth and power, even their kindness was a form of showing off. To his mind, they were lording their power over him, making him feel foolish. Rising, he marched into his home and mounting the stairs, he escaped to his study.

Pausing at the door, he noted how bright and airy the room filled with colorful tapestries seemed. It had once been a wonderfully organized room, everything in its place, but now, papers were strewn about, correspondence, bills and notes piled all about the room in a massive confusion of paper and dust. Rummaging through the papers, Parker finally found an unused sheet of parchment and locating a quill and some ink, he began to write to Lord Albert. He would no longer be beholden like a dog to his master, he fumed. Let Alex find another Champion for his Queen, Parker was done playing dog for his King's amusement.

***

The sky was a steel gray as they traveled through the village, the cold lashing down through the main street and whipping the horsemen as they drew up to the local inn and dismounted. Thomas was through the door first, the dark warmth of the inn sliding up to him, embracing him like a long lost friend. Thomas smiled at the warm greeting offered him by the innkeeper as he drew closer to the bar.

"Do you have lodgings?" he asked pleasantly, eyeing the small crowd gathered in the dining room.

"Yes, sir," replied the innkeeper. "We have four rooms left to rent..."

"I'll take them all," replied Thomas. "We'll need dinner for twenty five, a place for the horses..."

"At once," grinned the innkeeper, a thin, wizen man with bright, attentive eyes.

Scampering out from behind the bar, he began to roust his staff into action as Anthony entered and joined Thomas at the bar. The innkeeper was back to pour a drink for them both as the servants marched out into the cold to assist their entourage in seeing to the horses and baggage.

"We'll spend the night here," stated Anthony, watching the activity with some amusement. "We could be at Wharton within the week if we continue this pace."

"I wish we had heard from the King," grumbled Thomas. "The messengers should have gotten there and back by now."

"I am sure we will hear from them shortly," smiled Anthony. "Everything in good time...I just hope that we might have an audience with the King immediately, there is not a moment to lose."

"What did the Duke's dispatch say?" asked Thomas.

"The Dorian ambassador is upset by a perceived slight," stated Anthony quietly. "He states that the Duke did not respond to a note from their King which no one seems to remember hearing or receiving. He is blaming the Duke's secretary..."

"Old Bertram?" laughed Thomas. "The man would sooner forget his name than anything given him for the Duke."

"They need a catalyst," stated Anthony. "They are probing for a situation that will allow them to become aggressive, which is why we must speak to the King as soon as possible.

"Damned weather isn't helping," grumbled Thomas. "My horse would move faster if the weather was warmer."

"Hopefully it will warm as we go further south," replied Anthony absently. "It is the time of year... we cannot expect summer in winter."

Thomas could see further discussion was pointless. Anthony was forming arguments in his head, having debates, seeking questions and providing answers to what the King of Zambelia might say to him. When he was like this, it was best to leave him alone. Downing his drink, he gestured to the innkeeper for another and watched the commotion their arrival had created. There was nothing to do until they arrived at Wharton.

***

"It went amazingly well," smiled Ernest, as if he had in somehow contributed to the success of the day.

"The delegates from Janaer seemed extremely impressed," responded Alex. "Thank you for helping us out, we truly appreciate it."

"I understand," smiled Marie, unable to remain silent on the subject, "that prior to their arrival there had been a mud fight."

"I won," stated Peter, happily.

"You didn't win," replied Joseph. "You might have been second, but you didn't win..."

"I do not believe anyone won," stated Donna.

"Of course someone won," replied Ernest. "Tthere would have been no point in having the fight if there were no winners."

"There is a point to having a mud fight?" asked Marie, unable to contain her surprise.

Ernest looked to Alex, who shrugged and stated quietly, "It is a contest of skill..."

"Throwing mud at one another requires skill?" asked Marie, with a laugh.

"Throwing is only part of it," replied Ernest sincerely. "You have to hit someone or there is no point in even throwing the mud..."

"The muddier you get, the more you win," smiled Peter.

"And what did you win?" asked Donna.

Peter considered it, "Not much, really. I had to take another bath, but Daddy said I was very good at throwing mud."

"He does have a good technique," admitted Joseph. "It isn't as easy as it looks..."

Marie frowned at Donna, who shook her head in resignation.

"Do you want to have a mud fight, Uncle Alex?" asked Peter suddenly.

"No, he does not," snapped Marie, eyeing her husband meaningfully. "The King should never have a mud fight, Peter."

"I wouldn't want to be King then," replied Peter. "I thought you got to do whatever you wanted when you were King."

"No," replied Joseph authoritatively, "you have to do all sorts of boring stuff."

Marie and Donna looked at Alex and Ernest.

"From the mouth of babes," said Ernest thoughtfully as they all laughed.

Chapter 5

Princess Caroline of Albria sat upon the balcony of the royal palace, reading the invitation of the Lord Albert for an upcoming tournament taking place in Zambelia. Caroline was a beautiful young woman with long, flowing brown hair an enchanting oval face that housed large, warm brown eyes set above red, inviting lips. She smiled as her father, the King approached.

"You will go to Zambelia?" he asked casually, as he approached, his dark eyes veiled beneath heavy lids.

"If you desire it, father," she replied dutifully.

"What do you desire, my daughter?" he asked, drawing closer and speaking softly.

"Whatever you wish, of course," she smiled.

The King shook his head. His daughter would do anything for him, including making herself unhappy. Gesturing for her to take a seat, he lowered himself onto a chair across from her.

"Do you not like him?" he asked directly.

Caroline looked at her hands, "He is exceedingly handsome and he has been most kind and attentive on the occasions that we have been together..."

The King raised an eyebrow, "But?"

Caroline looked at her father and sighed, "Father, I have no wish to leave Albria and my family and my friends. I understand that it is to our advantage that I do so and I am willing to do it, but I have no desire for it."

"What about Prince Jonathan?" he asked quietly. "Do you think he would make a good husband?"

"I am certain that he is a most honorable and excellent man," she replied. "I know so little about him of a personal nature...I have heard many good things about him and I have no doubt that he would try to make me happy should we..."

The King shook his head and rose.

"Caroline, I want you to go to Zambelia for this tournament. I do not want you to think about the future, just go and enjoy yourself. If the Prince asks you anything...I will not give my consent to any situation that would make you unhappy, do you understand?"

Caroline nodded, "Thank you, Father."

She watched as the King lumbered off, lost in thought. Jonathan was so handsome and he had seemed so kind. Perhaps things would be different if she knew him better. She was certain that he was the best looking of her many suitors and he seemed so genuinely sweet and kind. If only he did not live in Zambelia...

***

King Alex glared with cold eyes at the young man sitting beside his daughter, Annalisse, his mouth descending into an angry frown. Alex did not take kindly to young men displaying interest in his daughter. Being large and intimidating, he watched as the young man seemed to telescope into himself. Annalisse could not help but giggle as she drew closer to him.

"Daddy, you remember Lady Sarah's brother, Lord Morris, don't you?" she smiled.

Alex squinted, "Lord Morris?"

"Yes, sire," replied the young man rising with a respectful bow and a slight fear in his eyes. "I was holding my sister's seat beside her royal highness until she returns..."

"Oh, yes, of course," smiled Alex, glancing up and seeing Lady Sarah making her way through the assembly to join Annalisse.

Sarah was one of Annalisse' best friends, a pretty, giggly young girl who was engaged to some young lord whose name Alex could not remember. As she approached, she curtsied and giggled at the King.

"Your royal highness," she stated with a smile. "Do you know my brother..."

"Lord Morris, yes," replied Alex. "Annalisse just introduced us..."

"You've met Morris before Daddy," smiled Annalisse. "He was at Sarah's birthday party, remember?"

Alex frowned, "Oh yes, yes..."

Marie drew closer and smiled at those gathered, "Lord Morris, Lady Sarah, so good to see you both..."

"Your royal highness," they replied, bowing and curtseying respectively.

"Jonathan is inside, my love," stated Marie, smiling at Alex. "Perhaps it would be best if we entered the ballroom so that the evening could commence."

"Of course," replied Alex, taking his wife's hand and smiling down at her. Marie was so beautiful it still took his breath away. To her surprise, he held her hand up and kissed it tenderly. Turning to the others, he extended his arm to Annalisse, "If you would do me the honor..."

Annalisse giggled and rising, took her father's arm, gliding forward with her mother and entering the ballroom where Jonathan acknowledged them with a nod of his head. A slight grimace quickly passed across his features and then he smiled and strode to the center of the ballroom dance floor.

The ball could not begin until the Prince chose a partner and it was a ritual that he detested. No matter what he did, rumors would fly about whomever he chose. Glancing to his right, he saw Lord Wilton and his wife Ellen, waiting expectantly. Jonathan had been in love with Ellen, but things had not worked out and now that she was married to one of his best friends, he made a point of not asking her to dance. Lady Heather, Randy's wife, was his regular dance partner, first off because she was married, so it supplied no source of rumors and second off because she was one of his best friends. Lady Heather, however, was in what Randy termed "a hellacious mood" ever since her pregnancy had begun and he was not sure that it would be wise to approach her.

Suddenly, a great smile broke out upon Jonathan's face and he approached a woman whom his dancing with he knew would cause no scandal though it might make for many comments. Extending his hand he bowed.

"Lady Stasha, would you do me the honor of this dance?" he asked.

Stasha broke into a warm chuckle, "Why I would be delighted, Jonathan."

Taking her hand gingerly, he led her out onto the floor. Gesturing to the musicians, the music began to play and Stasha took hold of him and led him about the floor with gusto. Stasha loved to dance and she loved to lead as well....

***

Anthony stared at the message, his features composed, giving no clue as to its contents. Thomas glared at the paper for a moment and then cleared his throat.

"Well?"

Anthony folded the parchment and placed it in his sleeve and spurred his horse forward.

As Thomas drew near he spoke in a confidential tone.

"The Lord Albert sends us welcome and states that he will meet with us upon our arrival so that he might determine where we will fall in the King's schedule."

Thomas grimaced, "So the King never even saw the message..."

"It is to be expected," replied Anthony primly. "The matter is important to us, not to the Zambelians, not as yet anyway."

"Perhaps we should have sent the message to Sir Edward Tralaine, Lord Albert's assistant. I've heard he's taking on more and more responsibility..."

"Lord Albert is who we have to impress," stated Anthony. "If we get him on our side, I am certain that we can swing King Alex to our side."

"I hope you're right," replied Thomas doubtfully. "Time is running out."

Anthony drew his furs closer to him and remained silent. They had to make a good first impression on Lord Albert. Zambelia had defeated Darma, it would make the King of Darma think twice before he engaged them if he knew that the Zambelians were their allies. With the addition of Vesek to his kingdom, the King of Zambelia was the mightiest monarch in the world and any other force would be foolhardy to actively antagonize them.

He glanced at Thomas and smiled. He knew that Thomas thought him arrogant and perhaps he was correct. Anthony knew he was not an overly modest man, but what perhaps Thomas did not know was the reason he was so driven. Anthony's father had died young and the family found themselves deeply in debt. His father had been a good man, but a poor manager. While they were never completely destitute, his mother had to be very careful about what they could do or what they could afford. Anthony had seen other young men far better provided for advance in the world and he was determined to outdo them all. He glanced at Thomas again and smiled; he would make it work, he had to make it work.

Chapter 6

Lady Heather sat beside Princess Annalisse and Prince Jonathan, her husband doing his best not to hover over her, knowing how upset she would get if she detected him being anxious in any way.

Lady Heather looked at Jonathan and shook her head, "Lady Stasha? There is a multitude of young women you could have asked, Jonathan..."

"You know what would happen," replied Jonathan. "The gossips are out in full force tonight and I just could not bear to hear any of their imaginative stories concerning why I asked someone for something as simple as a dance."

"Are you saving yourself for Princess Caroline?" asked Annalisse with a giggle.

"She is lovely," smiled Jonathan, "but I am not sure what will happen when we meet next."

Heather gave him a sharp look and lowered her voice so as not to be over heard.

"I hope you are still not brooding over losing Ellen," she said.

"Wilton seems happy enough," replied Jonathan softly, "but no, I am not brooding over anyone. I wish your cousin and Wilton every happiness; sincerely I do. I know that we would not have made a good couple, I can see that now..."

"Is there no one who strikes your fancy?" asked Annalisse. "There are so many beautiful women here Jonathan and all of them are simply dying for you to show them the least little bit of attention."

"Nonsense," replied Jonathan. "And what of you?" he asked, desperate to change the subject. "You danced with father and have been sitting ever since."

"She is being kind to me and keeping me company until my cousin returns," stated Heather. "Besides, any man who gets within ten feet of your sister takes his life in his hands. I believe that your father's bark is worse than his bite, but when the dog is that large, you cannot blame them for not taking chances."

"Daddy is very protective of me," stated Annalisse wistfully. "It would take a very brave man to even approach me, never mind asking me for a dance. Mama has spoken to him but he still gives such a look to anyone whom I dance with, well, I will die an old maid and that is all there is to it."

Jonathan laughed, "Is there anyone with whom you would like to dance? Perhaps I could run interference with Father for you."

Annalisse laughed, "I would dance with Heather at this point. You know how I love to dance, Jonathan..."

"Then you should dance with your brother," stated a mild voice behind her.

Annalisse turned and saw Lady Pauline standing behind her, her large hazel eyes downcast, her face turning slightly pink with embarrassment at having joined the conversation.

"I hope I did not speak out of turn, milady," she said softly. "I have returned to keep Heather company and the music is lovely. You should dance with your brother, your father certainly could not object to him and then once out on the dance floor, switch partners..."

"It is an excellent idea," agreed Heather. "Once you get out onto the dance floor, you can switch partners with someone else and it will save the men from having to run the gauntlet with your father. It will also allow Jonathan to dance with other women without having to ask them prior to the song beginning..."

"Yes," laughed Randy, "then you can blame each other should anyone say anything!"

Jonathan rose and offered his sister his hand, "Will you do me the honor?"

Annalisse rose and curtsied, "I would love to dance with you..."

Jonathan swept her out onto the dance floor, the two of them talking quietly to one another as they circled towards the far side of the room.

"Now whom do you wish to dance with?" Jonathan asked, spying many men trying to catch his sister's eye. He smiled down at her proudly, besides being kind and beautiful and loving, Annalisse was extremely graceful.

"Get me closer to the Duke of Naring," she said softly. "I don't know him, but he appears to be a wonderful dancer."

Jonathan maneuvered them closer to the Duke, who was dancing with a young woman whose name he could not quite remember.

"What is her name?" whispered Jonathan.

"Lady Brenda," replied Annalisse. "She is Lord Paulings daughter..."

"Fine, fine," replied Jonathan.

Drawing closer, he tapped the Duke on the shoulder.

The Duke turned and gracefully bowed as his partner curtsied.

"My dear Duke," smiled Jonathan. "It is unfair that you keep such a graceful partner all to yourself..."

"I was thinking the same thing of you, milord," the Duke replied, a smile breaking over his handsome features.

"Might I suggest a realignment of partners?" asked Jonathan, bowing to the two ladies.

"If her royal highness is agreeable to the arrangement," smiled Lady Brenda.

"I would be honored," replied Annalisse, extending her hand to the Duke, who took her gracefully into his arms and swept her into the crowd of dancers that swirled about them.

"May I, milady?" asked Jonathan.

"I am greatly honored, your royal highness," replied Lady Brenda, her face a bright pink.

Taking her hand, Jonathan joined the dancers as they moved about them, surrounded by flowers and music.

***

Lady Pauline looked out quietly, watching the dancers as they glided past her and Heather and Randy. She could just make out the Prince and the Princess on the far side of the hall as they changed partners and disappeared into the large crowd.

"Princess Annalisse is so beautiful," she said softly. "She is like her mother and yet, so different..."

"They are both very beautiful, though their resemblance is more in their mannerisms than in their appearance," agreed Heather, watching her cousin curiously. "What are you looking at Pauline?"

"Oh, nothing," smiled Pauline. "I enjoy watching the dancers, they are all so graceful..."

Heather nudged Randy who looked startled for a moment and then realized what she was suggesting.

"Would you do me the honor of a dance, Pauline?" he asked happily.

Pauline looked at him, surprised. Looking at the floor, she shook her head.

"I am not much of a dancer, Randy, but thank you for asking..."

"Why ever not, Pauline?" asked Heather. "Randy loves to dance and I am so miserable I make a poor partner..."

"Thank you, no," replied Pauline quietly. "Besides, I would feel bad about leaving you..."

"I want you to have a good time, Pauline," replied Heather. "You need not baby sit me."

"I enjoy your company," replied Pauline gently. "I am fine here. It is all so beautiful; I just want to take it all in."

Heather smiled, knowing that Pauline was so shy that she would feel embarrassed to dance, even though she would be lost in a crowd this large. Perhaps it was best that her cousin stay here with her after all, Pauline was intelligent, but led a very sheltered life. Randy took hold of Heather's hand, jolting her out of her reveries. Gently, he kissed her hand and looked at her lovingly. She leaned gently towards him; she loved him and knew how hard he tried to make her happy.

As Heather and Randy drew closer to one another, Pauline stood off to the side, seeming to fade once again into the background, no one taking any real notice of her. She stood very still, looking out across the floor, her large hazel eyes looking at the Prince. He was such a wonderful man to help his sister to have some fun. She looked at him and her smile grew shyly, yes, he was a wonderful man...

***

Lady Trilian smiled at the King and Queen, her thin face, sharp features and deep set eyes giving her the appearance of a bird of prey. Perhaps the most renowned gossip in the court at Wharton, Lady Trilian seemed to know everything that happened near the royal family, sometimes, it seemed, before the royal family knew themselves.

"I must say I was surprised by his royal highnesses choice of partner," she stated in a smooth, motherly voice. "Lady Stasha I am sure was well pleased however..."

Marie merely smiled. From experience, she was certain that Lady Trilian had an opinion on the matter and would disgorge it shortly to anyone who would listen.

"Are you not worried, my Queen?" she asked softly, feigning concern. "His highness shows no preference for any of the assembled beauties of the kingdom. Is it that too many lovely women are available or is it that his heart is set on someone outside of the realm?"

"I am proud to say that my son merely wishes to spare some poor unsuspecting woman the embarrassment of endless questioning," smiled Marie. "Really, Lady Trilian, you of all people know how much my son dislikes having to choose a partner before so many prying eyes..."

"Still, with Lady Heather inconvenienced, I suppose that we all had hoped that his royal highness would make his preferences more...apparent," replied the older woman, her eyes narrowing as she looked out across the dance floor at the swirling figures. "Or perhaps he has..."

Marie raised an inquiring eyebrow.

"I merely believe, milady, that your son is perhaps signaling a preference for the company of a party who is not present at the moment," she answered with a smile. "The Princess Caroline is to do us the honor of a visit shortly, is she not?"

"We have not heard a response to the invitation that has been extended to her," replied Marie patiently. "We hope that she will, of course, do us the honor..."

"Of course an alliance with the royal house of Albria would dovetail nicely with the diplomatic work of your husband, his most royal majesty," purred Lady Trilian. "If it is not impertinent, has your husband expressed an opinion on the young lady?"

"She is quite charming," replied a slightly bored voice behind her.

Turning, Lady Trilian looked up at Alex, who smiled down at her pleasantly.

"I hate to impose, milady," he stated softly, "but I was hoping to dance with my wife, if it is not too much of an inconvenience..."

"Oh, by all means, sire," she responded with a gracious chuckle.

Her eyes glistened as she watched Alex reach for Marie's hand, scrutinizing every action and movement between the two as the King led the Queen to the dance floor and then swept her away in his arms.

"Yes," she muttered to herself, "we struck a nerve there did we not? So the Prince is infatuated with the Princess Caroline. I must let the others know..." her smile broadened, "yes, I must let the others know..."

Chapter 7

The four women sat comfortably at the edge of the large patio that stood above a terrace of flowerbeds in the gardens at Wharton. The air was noticeably cooler, the leaves of the trees falling in a never ending cascade. Autumn was drawing to a close and winter beckoned but the day was still warm enough for them to enjoy the morning outdoors with the aid of a shawl or cloak.

The ball had kept the three elderly ladies up much later than they were accustomed to being and their host and confidant, Princess Donna, looked at their sleepy eyes and noted their yawns with great amusement. Anna, Celeste and Daphne had come to stay with Ernest and Donna shortly after learning that the couple's eldest son, Prince Joseph, had acquired his mother's gift of sorcery. Joseph had surprised them all, showing all of the signs of an extremely powerful sorcerer. The three had been training Joseph for the past three five years and while they were proud of his progress, they knew that a talent like his had to be carefully cultivated and nurtured. It was also time to broach an important subject with their hostess. As usual, Daphne was the spokesperson for the two others.

"Donna, dear," she stated, stifling a yawn, "it is time that we speak to you about little Peter."

Donna felt herself stiffen. She knew that the three women had been testing her youngest son to see if he too had the gift and she was most anxious regarding his future. It had been hard enough instructing Joseph in the art, but to have two rambunctious boys to deal with filled her with anxiety. Both boys were good hearted, generous and completely impulsive, much like their father. An impulsive sorcerer was not a good idea; two would be even more of a challenge, especially if Peter was anywhere near as gifted as Joseph had proven to be.

With a deep breath, Donna steeled herself.

"Very well, Daphne; tell me what you have found."

Daphne took her hand and offered her a brief smile.

"I am sorry Donna, but Peter displays no gift. He did not inherit anything."

Donna sat for a moment absorbing the words.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing, my dear," replied Anna. "We were most thorough..."

"He displays no abilities," agreed Celeste. "I was shocked, personally. After Joseph's display and at such a young age..."

"I am afraid that Peter is, for lack of a better term, perfectly normal," stated Daphne.

A new anxiety seized Donna.

"He will feel cheated. He will think that he is not special because his brother possesses an ability that he does not have..."

"You mustn't look at it that way, my dear," replied Daphne. "The gift is both a gift and a responsibility. Who knows that better than you do?"

"You were driven from your homeland because of the gift," stated Celeste. "We all suffer because of it as well as benefit from it."

"It is like any other gift," agreed Anna. "You may have an athletic child or one graced in music or perhaps they can do both well or neither. The point is that not everyone is good at everything."

"Look at Anna," agreed Celeste. "She can't cook. Heaven knows she tries, poor dear, but there you have it..."

"What's wrong with my cooking?" asked Anna defensively.

"If you want to poison someone, you're a fine cook," replied Celeste pleasantly, "but really dear..."

"That will be all, sisters," interrupted Daphne with a roll of her eyes. Turning her attention to Donna, she continued, "It is evident, my dear, that Peter has not acquired the gift. I ask you please to let Lord Ernest know, I am sure that he will wish to discuss with you how you will handle the situation."

"It would be best if you informed the rest of your family as well," stated Anna, glancing suspiciously at Celeste, still smarting from her cooking comments. "I think that the King and Queen could be of great assistance in this instance..."

"Alex and Marie?" asked Donna, not following her line of reasoning.

"You married the King's brother," stated Anna. "Lord Ernest is not King, but yet there are no two closer brothers I know of; it is a perfect example for your little ones to learn from."

"And they love their father and their uncle so," stated Daphne. "Anna is quite right..."

"See Donna," agreed Celeste. "Anna is a terrible cook, but an excellent thinker..."

"What exactly do you find wrong with my cooking?" snapped Anna.

Daphne rolled her eyes again, "Go and talk to the King and Queen, my dear." Leaning closer to Donna she stated confidentially, "Truth be told, neither one of them can so much as boil water..."

***

Susan stood in her husband's study, looking down at him as he slept at his desk. She was a radiantly beautiful woman with long, flowing blonde hair, the face of an angel and the figure of a vixen. Her dark blue gown accented her eyes which gleefully sat at the moment above a self satisfied smile. Parker had resigned as the Queen's champion, a move she had been maneuvering him towards for some time now. With his adulteries against her, he had learned to loosen and break the ties he had once considered binding, never realizing that he was becoming tangled in other ties and commitments from which he could not extricate himself. Desperation led to bold unpredictability and bold unpredictability led to wild triumph, if aimed at the right target at the correct moment. Susan had peered into the future and had seen a glimpse of the possibilities along the road on which they travelled.

Her attention was captured by her husband's broad shoulders and they way his sandy colored hair was tousled about his head. He was a handsome man and an excellent lover. He had become even more attentive with each affair, as if by paying her more and more elaborate attention, he could wash away his actions. Susan too had had affairs, but they were mere amusements and for her, there was no cumbersome moral compass to interfere with her choices. Whatever was good for Susan was all that mattered, the rest was trifling nonsense.

Yes, she was certain that his resignation as the Queen's Champion would resonate at court. Parker was young, strong and skilled and it would be seen, by the proper eyes, as a personal rejection of his service to the King and Queen. In the meantime, she had been astutely cultivating the minority of nobles who were displeased by the royal couple. Many of them were cranks or justly chastised nobles who had a score to settle with the ruling family, but of course none of that mattered. They would be vocal when the moment came and that was all that she required.

Glancing over her husband's shoulder, she saw a line of numbers he had begun to tally listed upon a sheet of paper upon his desk. Peering at the sheet, her smile grew larger. Yes, the expenses were mounting. Paying allowances, actually hush money, secretly to almost twenty women had put quite a drain on his resources. Added to her spending, Parker would soon need to find new sources of income in order to keep his secret life secret. Susan laughed, as if he were capable of keeping anything secret from her.

With a wave of her hand, a mirror floated from the wall and came to stand before her. She looked at her reflection with deep admiration, unable to detect a single flaw. Yes, she was a very beautiful woman, nature had seen to that and now her magic guaranteed it. While Parker might have begun showing a little wear from his exertions, Susan had grown only more beautiful as time had gone on. With a nod from her, the mirror swept back to its place on the wall like an obedient servant.

For his part Parker had no idea that he had married a sorceress, had no idea that Susan had been responsible for his first wife's death, had no idea of anything to do with his wife. His lust for her grew even as his infidelities mounted. A knock at the door, startled Susan and Parker sat up suddenly, surprised to find her there.

"Susan," he snapped, blinking his eyes and trying to focus.

The knock sounded again.

"Uh, yes," called out Parker.

"I need to speak to you," stated a young male voice just beyond the door.

"Jacob?" called out Parker. "Come in..."

Parker's son Jacob entered; his face a bland mask. At ten years of age, Jacob was almost as tall as his father with jet black, curly hair and dark eyes. Despite the lack of expression on his face, one could read the world in those dark eyes, eyes filled with disappointment and anger as they looked at his father and with distain whenever they fell upon his step-mother. With a glance at Susan, he looked down at his father.

"Napping so early in the day? Too much to drink?" he asked casually.

Parker shook his head, "I did not sleep well last night and nodded off while working on some correspondence, not that I need explain myself to you."

Jacob nodded as if accepting the argument, the judgment against his father, however, in no way lessened by the reaction.

"I have received an invitation to visit with his royal highness and her majesty," stated Jacob formally. "Grandfather will be visiting and could pick me up on his way to Wharton if you approve."

"Must we have the Count here again?" asked Susan, annoyed with the idea. Count Bartran was the father of the Lady Gertrude, Parker's former father in law and Jacob's constant companion and teacher.

"He need not stay," replied Jacob. "He could fetch me in the morning; I could arrange it so that he would arrive early enough for me that we could make it to Wharton by night fall."

"The days are beginning to get shorter," murmured Parker. "It might be wise for him to stay here the night and then continue in the morning."

"I am sure that Grandfather will be only too pleased to continue on to Wharton without having to visit here," bristled Jacob.

"It would not be hospitable..." began Parker.

"Let them go," stated Susan with a dismissive wave of her hand. "All he brings is sorrow whenever he visits anyway..."

"Yes, he should be horsewhipped for missing his daughter, my mother," stated Jacob coldly. Turning to Parker he eyed him a moment and then, "Do I have your permission?"

Parker looked at him exasperated, "Fine, go ahead and make the arrangements."

With a slight bow, Jacob withdrew.

"He's impossible," stated Parker suddenly. "I bend over backwards to be polite to him, to show an interest in him and no matter what I do or say, he will not allow me into his life!"

"You need to stop being so reasonable with him, darling," cooed Susan. "You've spoiled him; that is what you have done. You give him everything he wants..."

"He seems only to want his Grandfather," grumbled Parker. "He would not even allow me to engage a tutor for him. No, Grandfather teaches him everything. Other boys his age have begun training to become squires..."

"He will fall behind," stated Susan, unable to completely contain her smile. "Petulant brat...still Parker, you have tried; no one can blame you for not trying..."

Parker nodded, feeling fully vindicated. No one could blame him for his child's unreasonable attitude. It all stemmed from his mother's death, yes, if Gertrude had not died, Jacob would have been a much different child. Was he blaming Gertrude, he wondered...He shook his head, his thoughts unclear.

"Darling," interrupted Susan, "I found the most wonderful wine servant while I was visiting our friend, the Duke."

Parker shook his head, "What, my love? I'm sorry, I was wool gathering..."

"I said that I have found the most wonderful wine servant while I was visiting our friend, Duke Ragamon," stated Susan, waiting for her words to sink into her husband's mind.

The Duke of Ragamon was an old lecher whose servants were all harlots or worse. He had a keen eye for beautiful woman in trouble and was able to supply a steady stream of "servants" for Lady Susan to entice and misguide her husband.

"A wine servant?" asked Parker, his mind becoming fully alert at the mention of the Duke. It had been in the Duke's garden that he had committed his first act of adultery and he had repeated the offense during several visits since, each time with multiple partners, each time just before he was caught by his wife in a compromising position. "Do we need a servant specifically to serve wine?"

Susan heard the weakness of Parker's objection. He wanted to make it sound as if he were being reasonable, but she knew that he was anxious to see what this newest servant might look like.

"Well," she drawled, "if you object to the idea. I just thought it would be pleasant for our guests. She was a most beautiful creature and she dresses in a very alluring manner, her outfit is very sheer and she is so graceful, it is enchanting. She could pour water into your goblet and you would think it was the most wonderful vintage... Still, you are correct, dearest, we do not wish to distract our guests..."

"Well," replied Parker hastily, "we might try her out, see what she has to offer..."

"Yes darling," smiled Susan, stroking his cheek lovingly, "see what she has to offer..."

***

Princess Caroline pulled her cloak closer to her and stared out the coach windows at the changing scenery that passed them as they drove down the road. Her thoughts wandered back to her father's parting words, he would not force her to do anything.

"Do not make too many young men fall in love with you," he had chuckled, "I can only spare so many men to guard you from your suitors."

Caroline had indeed had many suitors, Dukes, Earls, Counts, a Prince or two and even a King. Anyone of them would have been suitable in her father's estimation. Each had paid her court in a proper and generous way but none of them had ever given her the hope of the type of love that she craved.

Perhaps she was fooling herself, she reasoned. What man would want to be subordinate to his wife? As the King's oldest daughter, she would become Queen one day and whomever she married would be King. Politically, it would be wonderful to increase the size of the kingdom, to become part of something large and powerful. Romantically, however, Caroline saw nothing but unhappiness in it. She did not wish to marry someone to make the kingdom larger. She did not want to rule someone else's land. Her dream was to find a man she loved and to live forever in her homeland. He need not be King, he need not worry about ruling; she would take on that burden with joy if only she could stay in her own country.

There was something about her homeland, something about the people and history, the culture and beauty of Albria that was forever in her heart and mind. How could any man, especially a foreign man, understand what Albria meant to her? She loved her family and friends, but her home was everything to her. The idea of giving it up, of losing it was more than she could comprehend. Still, if it were her father's will, she would do it. She would be a good daughter to him, but she prayed that somehow she would find the way. Clasping her hands in prayer, she bowed her head and began softly to pray, "Please God, let me find the way..."

Chapter 8

Edward detected the slight displeasure in his guest's attitudes and moved to alleviate it immediately.

"I hope that you will forgive, milord's, meeting with me first," he stated amiably.

Anthony glanced at Thomas, who spoke, "We mean no offense, Sir Edward, it is just that we were under the impression that we would be greeted by the Lord Albert."

Edward gestured the two men towards seats in his study and offered them wine before taking a chair for himself.

"I understand milords and may I assure you that you will be meeting with the Lord Albert. He meant no disrespect for either you or your mission by having you meet with me first, it is just that he is rather busy with the tournament he is planning and well..." he drew closer to them and spoke to them in a more confidential tone. "The Lord Albert is, as are we all, growing older. As his assistant, I try to take care of some of the more mundane arrangements that fall under his purview. Since you have just arrived, the thought is to get you and your entourage comfortably settled before we find ourselves conducting business. In the past, Lord Albert would have done all of this himself, but I now take care of the arrangements for your comfort and welfare while he reserves himself to dealing with the diplomatic matters at hand. Again, I hope you can both understand why this is arranged in this manner and that no slight is intended, either by Lord Albert or by his majesty the King."

He saw Thomas relax slightly, while Anthony seemed to be processing the information.

"I understand that the matter at hand must be urgent or you would not have made the journey here so hurriedly," stated Edward as he reviewed the sleeping arrangements for the group that he had mapped out on a piece of parchment. "If there is any message, either verbal or written, that you wish me to convey to the Lord Albert or to his majesty the King, I will be only too pleased to do so. You are scheduled to meet with Lord Albert formally tomorrow morning, but we ask that you join both his majesty and Lord Albert and the court for dinner and entertainment this evening."

"We would be delighted to meet with Lord Albert and his majesty this evening," replied Anthony. "The matter at hand is a delicate one, Sir Edward, so I hope you might not view it as a slight if we do not wish to communicate it to anyone other than to Lord Albert and to his majesty."

"I quite understand," smiled Edward. "Now, if you gentlemen will allow me, I will show you to your accommodations so that you might prepare for this evening."

Anthony glanced at Thomas who frowned back at him. To Thomas, time was of the essence, sending a note might expedite matters, but Anthony was taking a different approach. They must not appear to be begging for assistance; that would be a mistake. No, they must bide their time and speak to the Lord Albert and the King on as close to an equal footing as was possible.

***

Lord Wilton laughed at his friend's groan of displeasure.

"Please, milord, do not shoot the messenger," laughed Wilton. "The Lord Albert requested only that I pass on the information to you, it is not my fault that we met in the hallway."

"Again?" asked Jonathan. "Why can we not have acrobats to entertain these fellows? Must we always have a ball when we have important visitors? If I ever have a say in the matter, I will ban all balls until after I marry."

"They are not such a delight when one is married, milord," replied Wilton confidentially. "They tend to become rather expensive. A man can wear a perfectly serviceable suit of clothing two or three times without a comment, but a wife needs a new dress for every ball and my wife insists upon attending every ball that she can."

Jonathan forced a smile. Wilton's wife, Ellen, was a great beauty. Each of them had been infatuated with her since they were children. While things between Ellen and he had not worked out and while he understood in his mind that they would not have made a good couple, he found it difficult not to still find her very attractive.

"At least you do not have to seek a partner to start every ball," replied Jonathan.

"Lady Stasha will be there," laughed Wilton.

"Mother has warned me that at the next ball I must choose someone besides Lady Heather, Annalisse, Lady Stasha or herself," he replied glumly. "She also stated that married women and the elderly are not to be considered."

"There are many beautiful women, Jonathan," replied Wilton. "Is it really so difficult?" Sitting beside his friend, he continued, "You are too sensitive. Not every girl thinks you are about to court her if you ask her to dance. I understand, the gossips will talk, but you cannot rule your life by their cackling. Why not ask Lady Virginia, she is lovely, or Lady Vanessa?"

"I am somewhat friendly with Lady Vanessa," he conceded.

"Well then, there you go," smiled Wilton.

A young boy, a page about eight years in age, suddenly appeared before the two men. He seemed to arrive out of nowhere, startling them both. With a quick bow, the boy spoke in a high pitched nervous voice.

"I am sorry to interrupt, milords," he began, completely forgetting to address Jonathan first, "but there is an angry lady who requires your assistance, Lord Wilton."

"My wife?" asked Wilton uneasily.

"Yes, milord," replied the page. "You seem to have forgotten to pack something she desires and she is rather upset about it. I was told to bring you at once to her side or..."

Wilton's eyes narrowed, "Or what?"

The boy looked down, a bit embarrassed, "She said if I did not fetch you immediately I would never grow up to be a squire."

Jonathan began to laugh, "Well, we cannot have that, can we Wilton?"

"I apologize, milord," replied Wilton, lumbering to his feet. "My wife does have a tendency to be a bit stiff with the help." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled forth a coin and handed it to the page. "Do not worry, my young fellow, mine is the hide she wants, not yours."

"Yes, milord, thank you, milord," replied the page, uncertain if he should believe Wilton or not.

Jonathan watched as his friend lumbered towards an unpleasant reunion with his beloved. Jonathan could never abide people being rude to a servant, it went against his nature.

Looking at the page, he caught him looking at the money Wilton had just given him. The page returned his glance and smiled guiltily.

"Begging your pardon, your royal highness, might I ask, is his lordship staying long?" he asked softly.

"For a few days," replied Jonathan, surprised to see his smile widen. "Do you WANT to have the lady here for a few more days?"

The page looked at the ground.

"It's not her ladyship, milord, as much as his lordship I would wish would stay," confessed the page. "This is the sixth coin his lordship has given to me since they have arrived. Her ladyship might not be friendly, but his lordship is wonderfully apologetic..."

Jonathan could not contain his laughter. Perhaps he had not truly "lost" when he had not gained Ellen after all...

***

The Duke of Ragamon smiled as he read Lady Susan's missive. Yet another "servant", he mused. Poor old Parker must be wearing himself out trying to keep the help satisfied. The Duke eased down into a chair opposite his bed and glanced up at this afternoon's companion, a fine, beautiful redhead with emerald green eyes who seemed more flexible than a housecat. He smiled at her lustily and then finished reading the letter.

Who to send this time, he pondered. The girl would have to be graceful, sly and bold. He thought of his current stock of women and frowned, no, none of the ones he was thinking of would do. His lids drew down heavily as he tried to think. He was sleepy from his physical exertions and too relaxed in the afterglow of his activities to think clearly. Still, the idea that Lady Susan commanded him to respond forced him to think. Susan had placed him under a spell so that he would obey and despite his every inclination to put off thinking about her request, he found himself running over lists of names, faces and body types. Who could fulfill the order, he wondered.

The redheaded vixen drew closer to him, finally settling onto his lap, her breasts inches from his lips.

"What has you so distracted?" she asked.

He loved her voice, it was the voice of a young girl, though she was in her twenties. It was all innocence and ignorance until her clothes were off and then you realized how experienced and talented she truly was...No, no she would not do, he was not willing to part with her, not yet anyway...

He glanced up and found her casually reading the note that had so distracted him.

"Eva would be perfect for this..." she mentioned matter of factly.

To her surprise, the Duke jumped up, a broad smile across his face, his eyes suddenly ablaze.

"EVA!" he snapped. "EVA! Of course..."

Giving her a quick kiss, he retreated to the rope that hung beside the bedpost and gave it a harsh tug.

"Eva will be perfect," he mused, "and more importantly, I will be able to get rid of Eva!"

"Get rid of her?" asked the girl. "Why do you wish to get rid of her?"

He smiled indulgently at her, "Child, do not worry about why I do something; just accept that I do it."

The girl's green eyes went wide and her smile showed her acceptance of anything he wanted from her. She was good, he mused, very good...

The door to the bedroom opened and a young woman dressed as a servant entered and curtsied. The fact that there were two nude people in the room making no attempt to cover themselves in anyway made no difference to the young woman. She had seen it all before with the Duke and had participated in a good deal of it as well. She offered the slightest of smiles and then spoke.

"You rang, milord?"

"Where is Eva?" he snapped anxiously.

The girl considered the question but a moment.

"I believe she is still where you left her, milord," she replied. "I did not see her leave the dungeon..."

The dungeon, recalled the Duke, yes, of course. Grabbing his robe, he slipped into it, eyeing the two women as he thought.

"Both of you wait here," he stated. "I will have you both when I return."

The two women smiled and then glanced at one another, saying nothing. The Duke slid out of the room and down the hall, his mind recalling his history with Eva.

He had purchased her from a trader in Chanra in a cave near the port of El Ad Dorind. The trade, of course, was illegal, it had been banned decades ago, but there was still a lively black market in human flesh and the Duke was a well known connoisseur. He remembered the merchant, a small piece of human refuse with a scraggly beard and a nervous manner. He had seen some of his wares and was about to leave when the man leapt towards him and offered him his "prize" offering. A former princess, he stated, taken in payment for a debt and now an experienced delight.

The Duke would never forget his first time seeing Eva, watching her saunter out from the depths of the cave dressed in sheer clothing, a veil about her face, only her eyes exposed. The merchant had ordered her to dance and she filled the chamber with sensual movement, stripping off the veils until only the one upon her face remained. At last it too floated to the floor, her beautiful features revealed at last. She was the color of caramel, her hair jet black, his lips red, her eyes dark and sensual. The Duke had laughed; no princess had ever moved in that manner, no woman had ever dreamed of such a display, no, this woman was more demon than human. He had taken her then and there and had purchased her without negotiation. He had to have her. It was not until he had returned to his home that he realized what he had done.

He had, despite himself, been correct about Eva. While the Duke had few scruples, Eva had none at all. He had found she could surrender to a man completely and then murder him in the next instant without a thought or concern. She stole from his guests, had poisoned rivals and had tried to arrange for his own demise. He had decided that she would be killed, chained to a wall and left to starve to death, but after she was chained, she had been so enticing, so inviting that he had found himself coupling with her rather than killing her. She was entirely too dangerous to keep around, but he found himself increasingly unwilling to end her life. No, banishment was the only solution and so he would send her to Lady Susan. He laughed as he thought of the Lady Susan, yes, she and Eva deserved each other, no doubt about that...

Entering the dungeon, the guard stood awaiting his words. The guard was a large, heavy set man with heavy lids that partially obscured his pale, dead eyes. His jowly face seemed to melt down upon his chest and he stood, arms folded, awaiting his lord's command.

"Open number six," stated the Duke.

The man lumbered to obey, unlocking the door to the cell and stepping back from the door. The Duke entered into a small, dark room, the floor of which was covered in straw. The walls were made of stone and like the low ceiling, they oozed moisture.

Across the room, chained to the wall, stood Eva, her face downturned, her skin glistening in the dim light. Drawing closer, the Duke spoke to her almost soothingly.

"Eva, I have decided to spare your life," he began, looking down at her cleavage, his passion for her rising.

She raised her head, her face a mask of impudence.

"I am exiling you," he stated softly, fighting for control. "You will be sent where you can actually do some good."

Eva's lips parted in something between a smile and a sneer, "I will never do some good..."

Chapter 9

Anthony stood patiently in the receiving line, trying to contain a slightly self satisfied smile. He was the master of small talk, the consummate professional who could ingrate himself to the hardest of hearts and most suspicious of minds. He was dressed in his best uniform, had spent hours preparing for this moment mentally, physically and spiritually. It would be the King and Queen's first impression of him and he knew how important first impressions were; the slightest mistake could spell disaster, the merest gesture the difference between failure and success. Yes, he would leave an impression so positive upon them that they would not only hear him, but listen to him.

Thomas had collected him at his room and the two had made their way down with a small group of Gronolonian officers and officials to the main entrance of Wharton Castle where they were joined by the Gronolian Ambassador. Together, the group joined the line to meet the King and Queen, all but Thomas easing back to allow Anthony room.

The people he met first were court officials, each who greeted him warmly and wished him success on his mission. The line was not terribly long and did not move terribly fast. Each person he met seemed fairly well born and well to do and several made a point of introducing themselves, anxious to see who this handsome strange was and hopefully gain some insight into his urgent mission about which rumors had begun to spread throughout the court.

At last, Anthony and Thomas approached her majesty, her most royal highness, Queen Marie. The two men offered their most graceful, their most solemn bows to her and Marie smiled and bade them rise.

"The Earl of Carria and the Earl of Mariar, I believe," she said softly.

"It is an honor to meet you, your most royal highness," intoned Anthony, his voice warm and charming. "May we thank you for your most generous hospitality?"

"We are most anxious to make your acquaintance," replied Marie. "I hope that you might be able to spend some time with us a little later..."

"It would be an honor and a privilege," replied Anthony, again bowing. "It is our hope that our time here may begin a new closeness in the friendship that our two nations have always enjoyed."

"Our hope, as always, is for peace and happiness with all of our neighbors," smiled Marie. "We will, of course, discuss more, later, milord."

"Of course, your highness, thank you," smiled Anthony.

Stepping to his right, he encountered the profile of a young woman. He could not see her face for she had turned her head and her ringlets of golden hair hid it from his view. Princess Annalisse had been speaking over her shoulder to her friend Sarah who had flitted up behind her. She had turned from the Earl to reply to her friend's question and upon answering, turned back towards him. She offered him a dazzling smile that escaped into deep dimples beneath brilliant blue eyes.

For a moment, Anthony was completely shaken. He had never experienced anything like what he felt in that moment. It was as if a hammer had slammed into his chest and he found that he could barely breathe, think or act. For a moment, he stared at Annalisse, his dark eyes thrown wide, his lips slightly parted and not a thought in his head. For Annalisse, the moment was just as startling. She found herself staring into his eyes and then with a great force of will, made herself look away and then back. A warmth seemed to embrace the two of them and Annalisse felt such a connection with this man it troubled her. She had no idea of who he was or why she should feel this way. The feeling was both exciting and almost too intimate and it made her uneasy.

"The Earl of Carria, I believe," giggled Sarah softly into her friend's ear before slipping away.

The silence lasted a moment too long and at last, Annalisse felt the need to break the silence.

"A pleasure to meet you, milord," she stated softly.

Anthony forced himself to speak, his voice hoarse and foreign to his own ears, "I apologize, your most royal highness, I...I am overwhelmed." He gave a short laugh, forcing himself to think, "I am afraid that despite your mother's great beauty I was not prepared for how enchanting her daughter would be. Forgive my clumsiness and lack of foresight."

Annalisse blushed, "You are a flatterer, milord..."

"I merely speak the truth, milady," he replied softly. "I am honored that such a vision would deign to receive me and my friend..."

"The Earl of Mariar, milady," stated Thomas with a bow. "I hope that my friend has not embarrassed you by such a frank and truthful assessment..."

"You are both flatterers," smiled Annalisse, glancing back at Anthony a moment, before turning to the giant to her left. "Father, may I introduce the Earls of Mariar and Carria..."

Alex turned and looked down at the two men, his thoughts turning to the briefing he had received from Edward earlier.

"Milords," he stated as the two men bowed respectfully. "I have heard much about you. Welcome to Zambelia."

"You most gracious majesty," smiled Anthony, trying his hardest to focus on Alex and ignore the impulse to glance at Annalisse. "It is an honor to be received by your most august majesty."

Alex smiled, "I have heard much about you Lord Anthony. You have quite a reputation for a man so young, I am looking forward to our conversation later..."

"As am I, sire," replied Anthony. "But we must not detain you longer, the line..."

Alex glanced at the growing line and offered a hard smile, "Duty calls, milords. We will speak later..."

The two men bowed and continued out towards the dining room.

"Well done, Anthony," whispered Thomas happily. "We've made a good first impression..."

"I hope we have," replied Anthony, unable to keep himself from glancing back at Annalisse. "I hope we have..."

***

The country of Darma is a harsh, cold and forbidding place. Set well north of Zambelia, the kingdom was large but sparsely populated for most of its great size. The northern half of the country was so inhospitable as to be almost uninhabitable, most of its citizens remained clustered along the kingdom's southern most borders. The people, by nature, were strong, resilient and suspicious of others and their king, Tidon the First, disliked most people and trusted no one.

Tidon was several years older than his Zambelian counterpart, King Alex. A short, stocky man with close cropped black hair that led down to an enormous beard that reached to the middle of his barrel shaped chest, Tidon always appeared to be angry or brooding about some slight, the few words he spoke leaving those who dealt with him to believe that he would have them beheaded should they bother him further.

Dressed in heavy furs and always wearing at least one sword and a dagger, swaying menacingly from his massive leather belt, he moved about the palace as if seeking someone to rage against. His chamberlain, the Duke of Rectra followed his august majesty with the simpering weariness of a frightened and abused dog. A thin man of the same age as the King, he knew his majesty's moods, which he had told an acquaintance recently could be summed up as "swinging from dark to darker and back again".

"Rectra," snapped the King, his dark eyes blazing. "Did you read the dispatch?"

"I did sire," replied Rectra. "I suppose it was to be expected..."

"Cowards," sneered the King. "Run to Zambelia to seek protection, damnable cowards!"

"Yes, sire," replied Rectra.

"Have you sent a reply to our ambassador?" growled the King.

"Upon your instruction, your majesty," replied Rectra.

"If Zambelia grants the treaty that the Duchy seeks, we must halt our southern expansion..."

"There is still hope, milord," stated Rectra softly. "What has Gronolo to offer Zambelia but a confrontation with your supreme majesty? They have little to offer but trouble and the Zambelian's are tired of war, sire. They are still rebuilding Vesek and..."

"Becoming more powerful by the day," interrupted the King, flashing a glance at Rectra that made him feel like his body was composed of weak jelly.

"Sire, we can still undermine the Gronolian mission," stated Rectra. "We have friends in Zambelia, it might be time to put them to use..."

The King grimaced and then spat onto the cold stone floor.

"Morons and idiots," he stated harshly. "They beg for money and whine about lack of respect. All traitors and dogs!"

"Spies are seldom people of the highest moral caliber," replied Rectra. "They serve a purpose, sire..."

"Fine, fine," replied Tidon, heaving himself upon his throne with a dark scowl. "Use the people we know, see if they can be of any help."

"As my lord commands..."

Tidon's eyes narrowed, "What of this forthcoming marriage?"

Rectra shook his head, "Nothing is definite, milord. At this point there are merely rumors regarding the Prince and Princess..."

"If they add Albria to their kingdom, we'll have Zambelia on three borders, Rectra," mumbled the King. "I do not want this marriage..."

"Of that we can do little at the moment, sire," replied Rectra. "I think we need to concentrate on the Gronolian question first and foremost."

The King seemed to growl but finally acquiesced with a wave of his hand. Rectra bowed and made himself scarce before the King became annoyed with him.

***

The man riding the horse was huge and muscular, a tight black leather vest barely covering his upper torso as they ambled slowly along the dusty path, a coarse rope running from his saddle to the shackles that embraced Eva's wrists. Eva walked behind and to the right of the man. He had been assigned by the Duke to make certain that she made it to her destination and that she did not take it into her mind to return to his estate. While Eva would have been nearly irresistible to any other man, the Duke had chosen wisely, for her captor was not only a deaf mute, but a eunuch as well.

Turning off of the main path, she glanced down at the bag she held in her shackled hands. It contained a little clothing and a few coins, all of her worldly possessions. Before releasing her from his dungeon, the Duke had explained the Lady Susan's desires to her and had obtained her promise that she would do all that the lady demanded of her, a promise that they both knew was completely worthless.

Still, glancing down at her cleavage, at her supple breasts and her enviable figure, she was certain that her new mistress would find her most satisfactory in her new position. As the dust increased and the day grew colder, Eva began to think back over her life, something she rarely did, preferring to look forward and never back. Still, being escorted along a deserted road had a tendency to make one introspective.

She had been born in the kingdom of Randoreum, the bastard child of a merchant and his mistress. It had been a hard life, her mother struggling to find enough money for food for her and yet never without funds to purchase expensive perfumes and clothes. Life had taken a strange turn when she had become a teenager and had begun to develop physically. Suddenly, men were vying for her attention and she had learned that men would do anything to enjoy her charms. Her mother, worn out by her lifestyle and her love of drink, died when she was just sixteen. Her father had never acknowledged her so Eva found herself left to care for herself.

Within short order, a local madam had taken her under her wing, teaching her the trade and helping her develop the type of fantasy background that appealed to moneyed men. She was not only beautiful but exotic looking and men fell over themselves to become her protector. Eva laughed quietly to herself; she had never had a "protector" that she had not dominated. All had been as she desired; her every whim satisfied until she had stolen from one of her lovers and he had had her drugged and sold into the slave trade. It was when she had been at her most desperate that she had become her most cunning. She had concocted her "Princess" story, just before the Duke had bought her. That sale had made her last master a healthy profit, which she had stolen from him upon her departure and which she carried with her now in the lining of her girdle.

Now she would enter the service of a woman much like herself, a woman with plans and no moral compass, a woman who wanted her husband seduced for her own enrichment. The Duke had not given her all of the details of Susan's plot, not knowing or particularly caring about them. Still, the idea peaked Eva's interest. Any woman actively engaged in making herself a cuckold must have a very far reaching and evil plan and the idea of working with someone like that made her smile. A kindred spirit no doubt...

Breaching a hillside, the man drew the horse to a halt and together, they surveyed the town that stood before Lord Parker's castle. She surveyed her future home with growing interest and an eye for detail. The man she would seduce owned all of this? She peered out at the rich fields, the bustling village and the large and impressive fortress that stood in the center of it all. That would be her new home and its owner would be her new prey. A sudden surge of power seemed to throb through her veins. She would do all that the Lady Susan asked of her, but not for Lady Susan, not for anyone but herself. She would seduce the Lord Parker, she would use him as she had used every man she had ever met and in the end, she would own ALL of this...

Chapter 10

The arrival of Princess Caroline and her entourage was a major event at the royal court. Few doubted that the beautiful young woman who was greeted upon her arrival by the King and Queen themselves would be the next Queen of Zambelia. The gossips noted how lovely, how refined and articulate the young woman was and there were endless discussions in political circles of the advantage of such a marriage for both countries.

Caroline, for her part, was polite and graceful in all that she did. The comments regarding her were universally positive and the gossips jockeyed to watch her greeting by the Prince. When Jonathan saw the young woman, it was obvious that he was much taken with her beauty and the two spoke quietly for several minutes together. Many felt that an announcement would be forthcoming shortly regarding the intention of the Prince to court this beautiful young maiden.

Lord Albert was delighted at the reception his Stasha and the Queen had arranged for the young woman and was certain that Jonathan was experiencing a mere case of cold feet in proceeding with the request to court her. After seeing the two of them together, he felt in his heart that the two would shortly be officially announced as a couple before the court and before the entire world. After the initial welcoming celebrations, the young lady was allowed to repair to her rooms to rest and both Randy and Wilton joined Jonathan in his study to discuss the upcoming tournament.

"So you are entered as the Queen's Champion," mused Randy. "I cannot contain my surprise at Lord Parker's decision to step down from the position. Is he unwell?"

"I have no idea," replied Jonathan. "It came as a shock to all of us. I would never refuse my mother's request and I am honored that she thinks so highly of me, but I must admit that it is a bit of a daunting prospect to follow Lord Parker in any role."

"Well, you seem to be following his footsteps in other ways," laughed Wilton. "If you pursue the Princess Caroline, you will certainly be challenging him for the most beautiful wife in the kingdom."

"She is very lovely," agreed Randy. "If it is not too personal a question, what was it that the two of you spoke of when you were talking?"

Jonathan smiled slightly, "It was of nothing important, I can assure you. I merely asked about her journey and she spoke to me about how cold it was coming through the mountains at this time of year. She seems to have little liking for the snow."

"Albria is of a warmer climate than we are and not everybody loves the winter as much as you do, Jonathan," laughed Randy. "I noticed that she did not stop smiling the entire time the two of you were speaking."

"Well that must be a good sign," stated Wilton. "From my own personal experience, I can tell you that most women do not feel the need to smile when speaking about disagreeable weather."

"How is Heather?" asked Jonathan, anxious to change the subject.

"Actually, she is feeling much better," smiled Randy. "She was able to eat a bit today and her mood has improved...well, sometimes..."

The others laughed.

"And Lady Ellen?" Jonathan asked Wilton.

"She is extremely excited about meeting the Princess Caroline again," smiled Wilton. "She of course had a new dress made and will spend most of the rest of the day primping for this evening. I am a fortunate man to have such a lovely wife..."

"Indeed you are," replied Jonathan, a bit too quickly.

Randy covered for Jonathan's mistake by casually saying, "I know Heather is anxious to speak with her as well..."

"Do you think it wise to allow Lady Heather to speak to her?" asked Wilton to Jonathan. "Given the mood she is in, it might not be the best idea..."

"Or the safest," laughed Randy. "Still, she is anxious to speak with her. She is very protective of you, Jonathan. She worries about you..."

"About me?" asked Jonathan.

"Yes," replied Randy. "She always reminds me of the pressures you are under and she always questions me as to your situation. I think while she cares for you, she also would love if you married and then she could stop dancing with you."

The three laughed as Jonathan considered spending his life dancing with Princess Caroline. It was a most pleasant idea...

***

"None?"

For a moment, Joseph seemed completely bewildered, as if his parents were speaking a foreign language.

"I do not understand you, mother," he said softly. "Peter has NO powers? But how can that be?"

Ernest frowned in thought, "Think of it this way, Joseph. Your Uncle and I are twins and yet I am handsome and accomplished and he is merely king. Just because you are siblings does not mean that you possess the same abilities."

Donna and Joseph looked at Ernest and smiled.

"A flawed example, perhaps," stated Donna, "but accurate in its own way... Peter has no powers, Joseph, none at all as far as Daphne and the others can observe. I do not know how he will react to this, but I need you to be sensitive to his feelings. As he grows older, he will be better at things than you are, just as you will always be better at things than he is, but he may feel cheated."

"I understand, mother, but I hope he will not take it hard. I would hate for it to come between us."

"Well, I think we should call him in and tell him," stated Donna. "I think it will soften the blow if we were all here."

"I'll fetch him," stated Ernest, sliding out the door in search of his son.

"What if he becomes angry with me, mother?" asked Joseph. "I hope he understands that I did not choose to have powers..."

"We will explain it all to him," stated Donna. "He will need time to adjust to the idea, but we must be patient..."

She stopped, the door opening and Peter and Ernest entering. Ernest seemed pensive while his son did not appear to have a care in the world.

"Peter, we would like to speak with you," stated Donna, motioning her youngest to a chair.

"I didn't mean to do it, Mama," stated Peter happily. "I just wanted some milk and I forgot to bring my glass, so it just seemed to make sense to bring the goat inside..."

"That's not what we are here to speak about," stated Donna, "though we will speak about that later." Looking up, she glanced at Ernest, "Did you know about the goat?"

Ernest shook his head, "All news to me..."

Donna rolled her eyes...boys.

"Anyway," she began, "you know that we all love you very much."

Peter smiled happily, "Yes and I love you too!"

"And you know that sometimes, we do not get what we want," continued Donna.

"Like when you tell Daddy that he can't go skinny dipping 'cause we have guests?" asked Peter.

"Yes, exactly," smiled Donna. "Now, Peter, you must understand that sometimes, one person can do a thing and another person cannot. That does not mean that the person who cannot is not just as special and just as loved."

"We love you and your brother equally," stated Ernest. "Nothing will ever change that. Now you understand that your brother is older and can do more things than you can because he is bigger and stronger, right?"

"But I'm growing, I'm already this tall..." he stated, placing his hand well above his actual height.

"Yes, but think of Daddy and Uncle Alex," stated Donna. "Uncle Alex is a lot bigger than Daddy..."

"Uncle Alex is a giant," stated Peter with a laugh. "I bet he could eat a whole horse..."

"I've seen him eat almost that much," smiled Ernest.

"Let us try to keep on subject," stated Donna. Kneeling before her son, she continued, "Darling, we love you very much. You remember the tests that Daphne and Celeste and Anna gave you?"

"It was silly, Mama," he replied, shaking his head. "They wanted me to pick up a cup without touching it..."

"Yes darling," replied Donna. "Now, you know that Mama and Joseph can do that, but Daddy cannot..."

"Yes," replied Peter.

"Honey, I am afraid that you cannot do it either," said Donna softly. "Peter, my love, you do not possess the gift to do that like Joseph and I do."

Peter looked at her seriously for a moment and then sighed, "Thank God!"

Donna frowned, "Thank God?"

"I hate tests," stated Peter. "I don't want to have to keep going for tests like Joseph; he has to go for tests all the time!"

"Yes, I know darling..."

"And then you can't use the magic anyway! "Don't do this, don't do that", if I had magic I'd turn everyone into a frog, including me and then we could all hop and then Daphne and Celeste would yell, "Don't do that" and then I'd be in trouble. Magic is nothing but trouble, Mama," he stated authoritatively. "They yelled at Joseph for making a rock a cookie..."

"When was that?" asked Donna.

"I don't think that's the point, Mama," stated Joseph quietly.

"If you can't make a rock a cookie, why have magic at all?" continued Joseph reasonably. "Can I go and play now, Mama?"

Donna looked at her son; so much for a traumatic event.

"Yes, darling, if you would like..."

"Joseph, I found a bunny hole near the pond," stated Peter. "I think it is the brown bunny..."

"Can I go too, Mama?" asked Joseph.

"Go ahead," stated Donna softly.

She watched as the two boys ran out of the room. Ernest sidled up to her and placed his arm around her waist.

"Well, that was easy..."

"I thought he would be upset," stated Donna. "Maybe when he gets older..."

"Perhaps, but I don't think so," stated Ernest. "So, do you want to go skinny dipping? We are not expecting guests..."

Donna looked at him a moment and then laughed. Taking his hand, she giggled, leading him out the door and towards their bedroom...

***

Eva glanced about her bedroom as the female steward pointed out the amenities.

"This is your private room," she stated, "and as you can see, you have a dresser, a closet, a vanity, a bed and writing table. You are not allowed to have visitors up in your room, if you were to have a visitor, you can entertain them in the common room downstairs that I showed to you before we came up."

"So none of you ever have anyone up to your rooms?" asked Eva innocently.

"It is not allowed," replied the steward, a pretty young woman with serious brown eyes and a knowing smile. "It is part of my job to make sure that no one is entertained in the bedrooms of the staff."

Evan smiled, "And who makes sure that you are not entertaining anyone?"

"I beg your pardon..." replied the steward, arching an eyebrow for emphasis.

"Forgive my jest," replied Eva, having gained the information she sought. "I am certain that no one will wish to visit me, either here or in the common room. I have no family and I have no desire to make friends. The room is obviously adequate to its function." Approaching the closet she smiled, "I see that everyone wears a uniform. Is mine in the closet?"

"Yes," replied the steward. "You are expected to wear it while you are on duty."

"Of course," smiled Eva. "And how will I know when I must perform my given duty? As I understand it, I am here to pour wine."

The steward smiled, "I will summon you upon his lordship or her ladyship's summons. Be prepared, her ladyship will inform his lordship of your hiring this evening, after supper. I am sure that he will wish to make your acquaintance and learn if you know your job at that time."

Eva smiled and opened the closet. There were several dresses hanging there, none of which would constitute a uniform. Reaching for the last garment to her left, she smiled. Pulling it out, she held it up and asked brightly.

"Is this my uniform, then?"

"Yes," replied the steward primly.

Eva eyed the costume; it consisted of a white gauze-like material that she was certain would leave little to the imagination once she put it on.

"I wish that I had been employed during the summer months," she stated casually. "I believe that I will find this garment rather chilly as winter approaches."

"I am certain that his lordship will see to it that you are kept warm," smiled the steward.

"As my lord commands," replied Eva, with an elegant curtsy.

The steward turned and smiled as she left the room. Yes, this new one would fit right in...

Chapter 11

Alex and Albert sat on either side of Marie in the King's study, listening to the Earl's explanation.

"Darma is seeking to conquer the Duchy of Gronolo simply to expand their empire," he stated softly. "There are no braver men than my countrymen, your majesties, but we are simply too few to fight the forces available to the King of Darma. More to the point, your majesties, we desire no war. Gronolo has been and always will be a peace loving neighbor; we seek nothing but our own independence. My Lord, the Duke, has asked me to assure you that we will never take an aggressive stance with any one no matter what the provocation. We do not seek Zambelia to fight our battles for us, sire, but we seek to hold our heads high amongst the brotherhood of nations. Certainly such a stance is not unfair. Is independence and honor not what you wish for your own country?"

Alex grimaced slightly, "The Darmians are a formidable foe, milord as you have stated; we know that from experience. Still, I am at something of a loss as to what they hope to gain by a war with Gronolo. Your country is not large, nor is your produce abundant. Forgive me for saying it, milord, but your duchy's wealth is not excessive. I mean no disrespect, milord, I hope you understand that, but I am just trying to see what, in the King of Darma's mind, would justify attacking Gronolo. I am not certain that the gain would outweigh the risks, even if we were not involved."

"It is still more territory, your highness," stated Thomas, unable to remain silent, though he had told Anthony to do the talking. "Also, it would give them undeterred access to the largest of the mountain passes that borders your nation, sire. If they came seeking a fight with Zambelia, they could place an army through the pass from Gronolo to Zambelia more quickly than through any other current route."

"So it is your impression that they are seeking a war with us?" asked Marie softly.

"It is my impression, milady," replied Anthony, "that they are seeking retribution for the loss they suffered previously and they are seeking more land, land that is fertile during a long period of the year."

"The growing season, milady, for Darma is but three to four months long," stated Thomas. "They must import an enormous amount of their food stuffs. I agree that we are not a rich country, milord, but we do have farms that have growing seasons that run for up to six months. With the longer growing season, it makes it easier to feed an army in the field and keep enough food so that the people at home do not rebel."

Albert pressed his hands together in his lap as he spoke softly, "Still, as his majesty stated, it is hard to think that they would chance an attack on such a slender pretext for a questionable gain."

"The pretext, milord, is a test," stated Anthony. "They are trying their best to create a situation of multiple offenses in a short amount of time that would allow their attack to seem reasonable to the nations that might object. The Duke has sent multiple messages to the King seeking a meeting, but all have been rejected. I have copies that I can offer to you for your viewing..."

"I would like to see them," stated Alex firmly. Rising, he gestured to the two men, "Milords, there is entertainment tonight that I hope you will enjoy. We will speak again soon regarding the situation; I must have a little time to consider my options and actions, if any."

The two men bowed immediately.

"As my lord commands," stated Anthony, hoping his disappointment did not show.

He had hoped to win his case tonight, but he could see that this was only the opening gambit. He would have to bring all of his skills to bear; the life of his country depended upon it.

***

The air grew frigid that day, the cold increasing as the sun began its afternoon descent. Donna ushered the children inside and ordered the fires to be lit, the sudden strength of the evening chill catching all by surprise. Winter had announced its arrival and all were convinced that the last of the autumn warmth was in retreat, leaving the increasing cold to dominate the remainder of the year.

"Go and get your play cloaks," stated Donna to the boys, who scampered away to obey their mother.

The boys had just left their mother's sitting room when Donna's eyes glazed over, her face becoming a placid mask. Donna had visions and saw signs, part of the gift of sorcery that she had inherited from her mother. She stared out into the room, but the room was a memory, a shadow beyond the world in which she found herself at this moment.

It is a village, a large village like Wharton, though she cannot be certain of the exact place. It is summer, not the current late autumn/early winter and the village is in a panic, people are running in frantic disarray, mothers grabbing children and hustling them indoors, men on horseback approaching at breakneck speed. Turning, she sees it. It is large and gold, a bright, reflective golden hue, like a golden dish reflecting a bright noon sun, but it is in the shape of a man, on two legs, upright and enormous. She cannot clearly make it out, but she can see the outline of the creature's body despite the blinding light it casts. It moves forward on two legs and shines bright as the sun and it roars, a hideous, growling sound that echoes through the cobblestone streets, the force of it shattering the windows of the homes and businesses nearby.

Suddenly they appear; it is the King and her husband, Ernest, side by side, swords drawn, hastily gathered pieces of armor covering parts of their bodies, their horses thundering together in perfect step as they approach the creature. Each leaps from his saddle, draws his sword and approaches the beast. The battle begins; it is frightening and she is terrified as each man strikes blow after blow with little effect, the beast slashing and striking back at them with its huge, clawed hands and then the light grows even more brilliant and in the haze she can see one of the men fall. Suddenly the creature staggers and then is gone, the light extinguished, the scene lit only in the ordinary light of day, which by contrast seems almost as dark as dusk. She hears the voices of the people who pile out of their homes, all in a jumble, all frightened and terrified and tearful.

"He's dead, he's dead!" they cry, sobbing and weeping, terror mixed with sorrow in their voices.

Racing with the crowd, she approaches the fallen warrior, crying out, "Who? WHO IS DEAD?"

As she draws closer to the fallen man, the vision fades and the room reasserts itself in space and time. Staring out at the far wall of the room, she finds herself shaking. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she touches her fingertips to her temples and cries out in anguish.

"Daphne, come quickly! Daphne, I need you, NOW!"

***

Brogdan approached the estate of Prince Ernest, slowing his speed, his face set in a determined scowl. Brogdan was a large, muscular man, his bald head and black beard and eyes giving him an intimidating, menacing appearance. He is one of the King's most trusted soldiers, a friend and confidant to both the King and Queen and a highly prized member of the royal household. The arrival of his well known face at the gates of the Prince's home brought forth a great deal of activity. Before his feet had hit the stones of the courtyard pavement, the Lord Ernest had been summoned.

Entering the front door, he almost collided with the owner of the estate and the two took a moment to assess each other.

"The captain of the guard summoned me," stated Ernest with his ever present smile. "He felt your mission was urgent..."

Brogdan handed Ernest a scroll, which the Prince quickly opened, scanning the contents. Presently, Ernest's eyes narrowed.

"This seems a very important piece of information," drawled Ernest. "My brother seems much concerned by this new representative from Gronolo."

"The Lord Albert is to meet with the ambassador from Darma later today," stated Brogdan. "I believe that his majesty intends to call a council meeting..."

"Oh, I know how he loves those," stated Ernest sarcastically. "Will you be delivering more summonses or are you headed back to Wharton."

"I have to stop and visit a friend quickly and then I am returning to Wharton," stated Brogdan quietly.

Ernest smiled, knowing exactly what "friend" Brogdan would be visiting. Brogdan had joined his nephew, the Prince Jonathan, on a quest that Jonathan had undertaken when he had turned eighteen years of age. The object of the quest had been to find a woman who had been maltreated and scarred by Marie's first husband, Jonathan's birth father. The meeting of the two had not gone well and while the woman, Tara, had finally accepted Jonathan's offer of assistance, she had forbidden him from ever seeing her again owing to his resemblance to her late attacker.

Brogdan had been acting as Jonathan's go between ever since and had fallen helplessly in love with the woman. Tara, however, had so far refused his offer of marriage and Ernest knew that every spare moment he had, Brogdan spent with Tara gently pressing his suit and praying that she would change her mind.

"I suppose it is not my place to say this," stated Brogdan, "but I cannot help but feel that we might be drawing ourselves towards another war if we become these people's protectors."

"I am sure that is what is troubling Alex," stated Ernest thoughtfully. "For a man who loves peace as much as he does, he has spent far too much of his life fighting one problem or another. Still, we cannot become lax, we might be delaying a fight instead of avoiding it."

"Do you wish me to offer a reply?" asked Brogdan, gesturing towards the paper in Ernest's hands.

"When you return, inform my brother that I will arrive as soon as I am able," stated Ernest. "In the meantime, I will assemble my family and we will follow after you to Wharton."

Brogdan bowed and then returned to his horse, mounting it. Turning towards the gates, he offered Ernest a salute and then made his way back towards the road. Tara lived on Jonathan's estate at Angelrod, a short three miles from Ernest's home. He could be there, speak with her and be on his way in a short order. He frowned slightly as he spurred his horse forward; if only he could make her listen to reason...

Chapter 12

"May I offer your royal highness some wine?" asked Jonathan as he offered a goblet to the Princess Caroline.

"Thank you, your royal highness," she replied, her eyes never leaving his face as she took the goblet and offered him a brief salute with it.

Jonathan smiled as he lowered himself onto the chair across the table from her, sipping his wine. As the day had turned cold, the private lunch he had arranged with the Princess had been moved from the patio overlooking the gardens to the room above the patio with large glass doors looking out over the bare but beautifully landscaped gardens. Despite the servants who entered and served them, this was the first time that Jonathan and the Princess had been alone and able to speak to one another freely. Jonathan knew that Stasha would be hovering just beyond the door to make certain that everything went beautifully. He also knew that she was there to ease drop on the situation and sighed though he could not blame her for her curiosity.

"The weather has turned rather cold," stated Caroline, her words drawing Jonathan back from his reveries. "I understand that your highness is a lover of the winter time..."

"I do enjoy the winter," smiled Jonathan. "I know that you do not share my enthusiasm for it, however..."

"We all have our favorite time of year, I suppose," she responded softly.

The servants brought the first course, a creamy chicken soup that smelled enticing.

Taking a sip, Caroline smiled, "It is delicious, milord. Thank you again for inviting me to lunch."

"Thank you for saying yes," smiled Jonathan, still not feeling quite relaxed. He looked at her as she ate and pondered how to proceed. "I understand that it is still warm in Albria..."

"This is as cold as it gets back home," she replied. "Well, I should say as usually cold as it gets. We seldom have snow..." Her voice trailed off. Perhaps we should speak of something other than the weather, she thought, but what? After a moment, she brightened, "I understand that you have been made the Queen's Champion, milord. Congratulations on such an honor."

"Oh, thank you," smiled Jonathan, happy to be discussing anything other than snow. "Yes, the former champion was unable to continue and my mother did me the honor of asking for me to step into his place. I am rather nervous about the upcoming tournament. I would like to honor her by doing well..."

"I am certain that you will do a wonderful job," replied Caroline. "It was kind of the Lord Albert and your father to invite me to watch the tournament."

"Do you enjoy sport?" asked Jonathan as he finished his soup.

Caroline gave a slight frown, "I must confess that I am not much of a sports woman. I can appreciate the skill involved, of course, but I do not truly enjoy watching." She laughed lightly, trying to hide her uneasiness. "I do not know, I always think that there is something else I should be doing rather than sitting about watching grown men trying to hurt each other." She glanced at his face and felt she had said too much, "I mean no offense, of course, I admire the hard work that it takes to do...to participate..." You're babbling, she thought. Her words ground to a halt as she finished her soup.

Jonathan sat quietly, watching as the servants removed the bowls and replaced them with a mutton dish. She does not like tournaments, he thought, so much for impressing her. I will probably bore her to death.

"I was reading the most wonderful book yesterday," he ventured. "It was a new collection from Rarington..."

She looked at him, her eyes narrowing in thought. She knew the name but could not remember quite why.

"Rarington," she nodded. "I know the name..."

"The poet," replied Jonathan hopefully. "It is quite a good collection. Mind you, I am only about halfway through the book."

"Oh, how very nice," she replied, sticking a fork gently into her mutton and trying not to meet his eyes.

"Do you like poetry?" he ventured.

She gestured vaguely with her hand, "Some, I suppose...I am not much of a reader of poetry...some of it is very nice..."

"What do you like to read?" he asked, sipping his wine.

"When I do read, I enjoy novels about distant travels and far off places," she said. "I have always wanted to see certain places and experience different cultures..."

"I enjoy travel books as well," smiled Jonathan.

"The last one I read was by a sailor who told of a land he had visited across the Angliar Ocean. It seems the people there are quite loud and impossible to understand," she said. "I do not think I would like to visit that country, but there were other things in the book the peaked my interest."

"Have you travelled much?" he asked.

"Well, no, I suppose not," she replied. "You know how it is, you go because of official invitations, but you never quite see what you really wish to see. They show you all sorts of wonderful things, but you never get to enter a village and just see how normal people live and what their lives are like."

"It is true," replied Jonathan. "I envy my Uncle Ernest. He often travels in disguise, or at least he used to, and he could meet people and be whatever he wanted to be. I always thought that must be a wonderful way to see the world."

Caroline nodded as she ate. Silence descended upon them again for a time and finally Jonathan asked.

"You have several sisters, is that not so?"

"Yes, I have two younger sisters," replied Caroline. "We are very close. I am fortunate, we are best friends really. I miss them when I am away..."

"I am very close to my sister as well," replied Jonathan.

"I always wanted to have a brother," confessed Caroline. "I always thought it would be nice to have someone with a different perspective."

Jonathan smiled, "And your parents, are they well?"

Caroline nodded, "Yes, thankfully. My mother is in frail health, but she is doing quite nicely now. I worry when I am away, of course, but when I left she was feeling very good and my father, well, he is as strong as a horse."

"I worry about my parents when I am away," confessed Jonathan. "I am fortunate, neither suffers from any health problems, but I find that I cannot escape the idea that something might happen while I am gone and I might return too late...I suppose I sound foolish..."

"Not at all," stated Caroline. "I worry. My parents are getting older and you like to be there to help...No, you do not sound foolish at all."

A servant approached the table and bowed.

"Your royal highness, the Lady Stasha begs your indulgence; she has a visitor she would like you to meet."

Jonathan looked up, surprised. Why would Stasha wish to interrupt their quiet lunch?

"Very well," he replied. Looking at Caroline he asked, "Do you mind?"

"No, not in the least..." replied Caroline, curious to find out who the visitor could be.

The servant withdrew and returned a moment latter with a beautiful young girl about seven years of age. She was dressed in a lovely gown and held a huge bouquet in her hands. She curtsied gracefully and smiled at the two shyly.

"You are the Prince," she said softly to Jonathan.

"Yes," replied Jonathan, exchanging a glance with Caroline. "I understand that you wish to speak with me."

"I want to give this to you," stated the little girl, crossing to him and handing him the flowers, which he accepted graciously.

"Thank you so very much, they are lovely," he stated.

Turning, the little girl had another, smaller bouquet which she shyly handed to Caroline.

"These are for you," she said. Looking at Caroline, her smile grew, "You are lovely..."

"Why thank you," smiled Caroline, "both for the flowers and the compliment."

"Are you going to be Queen one day?" asked the little girl.

Both Caroline and Jonathan were taken completely off guard by the question. The servant stepped in to save the situation.

"I believe that their royal highnesses have some very important work to do now, my dear," said the servant, wrapping an arm around the little girl. "Thank you for your gift; it is time to go now..."

"Thank you," called out Jonathan as the little girl was led out of the room. "The flowers are lovely..."

"Yes, thank you," smiled Caroline.

The two watched the servant hustle the little girl out of the room.

Jonathan looked across the table at her, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"You just never know what a child will say," he stated lightly.

"Yes, they are so inquisitive at that age," she agreed hastily.

"Do you like children?" he asked, taking a gulp of his wine.

"I suppose, yes," she nodded, glancing back towards the door to make certain the little girl was gone.

"I have always dreamed of having a large family," he stated, taking another gulp of wine. "I suppose growing up, just Annalisse and I...I just think a large family would be nice..."

"I..." she shrugged, not certain as to how to proceed, "I've always enjoyed having my two sisters; I don't know, I think three is quite a lot..."

"Three?" asked Jonathan, finishing his wine. "Really?"

"There is always someone to break the tie," she responded, reaching for her own wine glass and taking a lady-like gulp. "I mean, it has always been adequate to me..."

"Of course," smiled Jonathan.

A servant approached with a decanter, examining their glasses as he drew nearer.

"Yes, by all means," stated Caroline, raising her glass for a refill.

"Yes," nodded Jonathan, lifting his own goblet towards the servant, "by all means..."

***

Annalisse and her girlfriend Sarah made their way down the corridor from her mother's study towards the library. Annalisse had invited Lady Heather to join her in the library, a chance to meet and socialize away from prying eyes. Annalisse had come to enjoy Lady Heather's company almost as much as her brother did and while she still occasionally found her a bit opinionated she could not help but like and even admire her.

Upon turning towards the stairs to descend to the ground floor, she found herself suddenly face to face with the two earls from Gronolo. The two men, caught speaking confidentially as they walked, started in surprise and then bowed before the Princess.

"A thousand pardons your most royal highness," stated Anthony. "We did not see you and her ladyship until we almost collided with you. We are on our way to speak with the Lord Albert..."

"There is no need to apologize, milord," smiled Annalisse.

"The Earl of Carriar, I believe," stated Sarah with a giggle and extending her hand for Anthony to kiss.

"I am so sorry," smiled Annalisse, "where are my manners. The Earl of Carriar, may I present the Lady Sarah of Darendor. Also, milord, the Earl of Mariar, the Lady Sarah..."

Each Earl took Sarah's hand in turn, kissing it and offering her a gracious bow, to which Sarah curtsied with a giggle.

"Are you gentlemen true representatives of the men of Gronolo?" she asked with a bright smile. "I believe I will have to visit there if all of the men there are so handsome..."

Annalisse blushed at her friend's forwardness.

"Sarah," she whispered harshly.

"Such a wonderful compliment from such a lovely lady," stated Thomas. "In honesty, milady, I can attest to the fact that the vast majority of my country men are a good deal better looking than I am, while my friend, if he were honest, would have to appraise them as somewhat less so than himself."

"The beauty of the women of Zambelia is often extolled," stated Anthony, never taking his eyes from Annalisse, "but I had been unsure of that truth until I had the great good fortune to meet your most royal highness."

Annalisse blushed, "As I have stated before, you are a flatterer, milord."

"Please, milady," he stated softly with complete sincerity, "I would never lie to one such as you. I know of no words that could convey the truth of your loveliness..."

Annalisse looked into his eyes and saw the warmth and admiration that were there.

Thomas nudged his friend slightly as he spoke, "I am sorry, miladies, but the Lord Albert is expecting us. Come, milord, we must be on our way..."

The two men bowed and then moved swiftly down the corridor toward Albert's study as Annalisse and Sarah moved in the opposite direction and then down the stairs.

"I believe that he likes you Annalisse," giggled Sarah. "He is very handsome..."

Annalisse merely nodded and glanced back in the direction the Earl had taken. Why did he say such things? She felt her heart racing as they drew closer to the library; he seemed so sincere...

***

Eva arched her back, wrapping her legs around Parker's waist and pulling him ever deeper into her. She had been pleasantly surprised to find him to be such a handsome man and so well equipped as well. Yes, he was an admirable lover. As his mouth ravished her breasts, she thought of her seduction.

She had worn the costume of veils and had entered the dining room barefoot, her hair in an elaborate braid, her body oiled and perfumed. His attention had been anxious and instantaneous. She had filled his goblet, never breaking the stare they shared until the goblet was full and then she had sauntered down the length of the table to fill the goblet of the Lady Susan.

She thought of the Lady Susan; such an incredibly beautiful woman, so rich, so powerful and so evil. She had watched with an emotion approaching glee her husband's discomfort as he tried to conceal his lust of their new servant. She had listened to the stilted conversation after she had left the room courtesy of the open door leading into the hallway. To her surprise, the steward had appeared and had taken the wine jug from her hands and then returned with a jar of ointment, which she opened and without preamble had begun to spread upon Eva's breasts.

"By order of her ladyship," whispered the steward. She offered her a slight smile, "Enjoy your evening."

A short time later, she had been summoned to the Lord Parker's study where she had seduced him within minutes. To his surprise, she had lured him up the two flights of stairs to her room where they were now, each enjoying the other's attributes with undisguised admiration.

With a hard grunt, he filled her just as she achieved her own climax. Yes, he was a very good lover and from all that she had heard of him, very busy. Eva's interview with her ladyship had happened just before dinner and had been brief and to the point; seduce his lordship as quickly as possible and try to give him yet another child with all due haste. The instructions were easy enough to follow, but Eva was not certain that the last instruction was to her ultimate benefit. Still, there were ways to make sure that she did not become pregnant, not until she was certain that it was in her best interests.

Parker lowered himself onto the bed besides her, his breathing hard. She moved sensually into the crook of his arm and cuddled up next to him. She smiled up at him, yes, he was handsome and she had always been drawn to tortured souls.

"You were wonderful, milord," she purred.

"As were you," he stated softly.

"You seem so harried," she continued. "You seemed to need release so desperately."

Slowly she worked her way up his chest and neck to his lips, kissing, licking, teasing. As her lips descended to his, she caught a look in his eyes. Was it desperation? Fear? No, it was something more. Eva smiled as she began to cover his body with her own. Unless she was completely wrong, this entire game could work out in her favor...

Chapter 13

Jacob moved through the garden at Wharton wrapped in a heavy fur, walking silently beside his Uncle Alex as the snow began to fall in large, gentle flakes all about them. He had always felt a special closeness to the King, a special bond and he wondered if it were like the bond his mother had enjoyed with him, a special friendship that allowed them to be together without having to speak to one another. Finally, he cleared his throat and Alex stopped and peered down at him.

"Uncle Alex, did you and my mother often walk together as we do, without speaking?" he asked softly.

He was surprised at the King's laughter.

"I am sorry, Jacob, but not that I can recall," he replied, shaking his head. "Your mother was a wonderful and beautiful woman and the very soul of kindness, but she was seldom silent. She loved to talk and laugh and tell stories." Sitting on a bench, he gestured Jacob to join him. "When I would come home from a trip or when I had been wounded in battle, your mother would come and sit with me and keep me amused for hours, telling me about all that I had missed at court and repeating every joke she had heard to raise my spirits."

Jacob looked down at the ground, "So things between mother and you were not like things are between us..."

Alex noted his disappointment and put his arm around the boy.

"Jacob, it is true that our relationship is very different than the one that I enjoyed with your mother," stated Alex. "That is not a bad thing. Your relationship with your grandfather is much different than the one he had with your mother and that is how it should be. It does not mean that he or I love you any less than we loved your mother; it is just that we have shared different experiences with one another. I loved your mother as a sister and I miss her terribly every day, but you, you are more like a son to me... a son who makes me very proud, I might add."

Jacob looked up at him and smiled sadly, "It is just, well, I had hoped it was something like how things had been when she was here..." Looking out into the garden, his eyes grew even more melancholy. "I wish I had known her, I wish I could remember something, anything about her." Looking at his hands, he continued, "Uncle Alex, I feel like I move further from her each day, as if I am losing her more and more. When I am with grandfather...I feel like he is drawing closer to her and I am moving further from her and from him...I know I am not making sense..."

"You are making sense, Jacob," stated Alex. Glancing about to make certain that they were truly alone, he asked Jacob in a low voice, "Do you still see the angel, Jacob?

Jacob looked up at him, unsure of how to answer the question.

"I see her," he confessed finally. "I know no one believes me, but I see her. She tells me things, things I should do and how I should act. A few times, she has even scolded me..."

"Scolded you?" asked Alex.

Jacob looked at the ground, "Usually for how I speak to my father. She says that my father is not to blame for how he acts..."

Alex thought of the curt letter Albert had received. It had been painful to have Parker renounce his post as the Queen's Champion. Alex was aware that the distance between Parker and himself grew every day, that he was losing his friend to forces that neither of them completely understood or, for the most part, that Parker was even aware of. He looked down at Jacob, certain that Parker was moving away from him as well. How could he abandon the only attachment he had left to Gertrude?

"Your father," he began. "Your father grieves for your mother. I do not think that he had ever really accepted what happened..."

"Then why did he marry again?" asked Jacob coldly. "If he loved my mother so..."

"I do not know, Jacob," confessed Alex. "I cannot say. Sometimes, in our grief, we...we lose our way." Placing a hand on the boy's shoulder, he said softly, "I do not want to lose you as I have lost your father. Both of us must accept our grief and hold to each other and the ones we love or we too will lose our way."

Jacob looked up at him, not completely sure he understood him. The angel always spoke so highly of him, always told him to listen to his Uncle Alex, to trust him.

"I will try, Uncle Alex," replied Jacob in a whisper.

To Jacob's surprise, he began to cry, felt the tears streaming from his eyes. For a moment, he felt awkward, crying before the King, but Alex pulled him closer and as a cold wind began to sweep about them, in the safety and privacy of his uncle's arms, Jacob cried, his tears coursing down his uncle's tunic, releasing at least some of the pain...

***

Stasha frowned at Jonathan and offered a vague wave of her hands as he took a seat in her kitchen and ran his hands through his hair.

"I thought it would be nice, to welcome her... A little girl with flowers, who would suspect a little girl with flowers could cause so much trouble?" asked Stasha, upset at the thought that she had embarrassed him.

Jonathan leaned back in his chair and shook his head, "It was not her fault, Stasha. I do not believe it was going well prior to her joining us..."

"What do you mean?" asked Stasha, sitting down beside him. "She seemed to enjoy the meal, she was smiling..."

"I think she enjoyed the meal very much, thank you for all of your planning and hard work, but...well..." he squinted and then brought his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes. "Stasha, when you met Albert, did you two agree on many things?"

Stasha laughed, "All the important things. He acknowledged that I was the boss and everything fell into place from there on in..."

Jonathan laughed, "Be serious..."

Stasha chuckled warmly, "Yes, Jonathan. We agreed on the important things. You're not going to agree on everything, you know, but on the important things, we agreed. You have to agree or you're a team of horses hitched together and pulling in different directions."

"What were the unimportant things you disagreed on?" he asked.

"Oh, I don't know," she said softly, thinking back over time. "I think we stopped disagreeing with each other a long time ago. You learn to compromise or accept the other person's point of view or, and this happens a lot, you find out it really does not matter all that much. Albert loves sardines, so once a week, I make him sardines. I wouldn't eat a sardine if you held a knife to my throat and when we were first married, I said no sardines in my kitchen. He asked if he could have sardines while I enjoyed something else, but I didn't like the idea of eating different things at the same meal, we should eat together, that was how I felt, but he enjoyed them so I ended up buying them and giving them to him and eating something different. So once a week we don't eat the same thing. At first it annoyed me, but then I realized, it doesn't matter, it isn't important. It makes him happy, so I do it. Marriage is like that, you find your happiness is only possible when the other person is happy..."

Jonathan thought about what Stasha said for a moment.

"I don't know Stasha, she is a very lovely young lady, I would hate to lose her over small things, but I am not sure they are all small things..."

"Don't be hasty, give it a chance," stated Stasha reasonably. "People negotiate on different things at different times and in different ways. You are just learning about one another Jonathan; you do not have to make a decision now."

Jonathan stood and leaning over her, kissed Stasha on the forehead.

"Thank you, Stasha, for the wonderful meal and the wonderful advice."

Stasha hugged him and laughed, "I promise, no more cute little girls."

Glancing down at her, they both laughed.

***

Count Bartran glanced at the summons he had received from his friend, the Lord Albert as he made his way towards Albert's study. What should he advise? The situation was a delicate one, a delicate one indeed. The Count was a handsome man with a mane of snow white hair and a beard of the same color that flowed to his waist. He walked with a staff and the melancholy which he fought clung to him whenever he was alone. He could never not think of his daughter, his delight, the Lady Gertrude, his grandson Jacob's mother and Parker's first wife, and the pain he felt at her loss never left him. Knocking upon Albert's study door, he entered and saw that Albert was with his assistant, Edward Tralaine. Albert gestured him to a seat, which he took slowly and heavily.

Edward took a seat next to Albert and across from Count Bartran and began the conversation.

"I know that you have the facts of the matter at hand, milord, so I hope that you do not think me presumptuous in beginning the discussion," began Edward. "Frankly, I can see that both sides of the issue have a point..."

"I agree," stated the Count, "but I am afraid our job is not to prove our objectivity, but to counsel the King as to a course."

"The ambassador of Darma pointed out that they have done nothing to either Gronolo or ourselves," stated Albert. "It is a point that we must consider. If something were to take place after such a treaty was enacted, we might appear as the aggressors."

"On the other hand, would we not sign a treaty with Gronolo if there were no immediate threat?" asked Edward. "If we perceived no aggression on the part of the Darmians, then we would not hesitate to counsel creating a treaty with any neighboring state."

"He has a point," agreed Bartran. "If we act differently it is because of the circumstances in which we find ourselves and which face the Gronolians. The ambassador's argument works against him in that case..."

"I cannot say which way the King is leaning, but if I know her majesty, I think she will advise the treaty," stated Albert.

"You yourself have said never to get between a man and his wife," smiled Edward.

"In matters of diplomacy, we are paid to do that if we honestly believe it is the best course of action," laughed Albert. "I do not wish to contradict her highness, but I cannot rest until I form an opinion of what is best for the kingdom."

"Why do you see her majesty as being for the treaty?" asked Bartran.

"You know that her highness always has the interest of the weak and poor in her heart," replied Albert. "She views Gronolo from this perspective; a small nation fighting for its life against a larger, more powerful foe. My question is should we get involved?"

"I think that I would hesitate to do so," stated Bartran. "At the moment, we do not have enough information. Perhaps we can send a message to our ambassador at the court of the King of Darma and instruct him to make inquiries."

"I have done so already," stated Albert. "I have instructed him to use all of his tact and discretion. We do not wish to accuse, but we wish to find out the true situation."

"I am certain that the Gronolians will not wish to wait for the return of a report."

"No, but it is the most prudent thing to do under the circumstances," replied Albert.

"I am afraid that we will have to make a decision prior to the report arriving," stated Edward. "They will push for a decision long before we can obtain those facts..."

"Then we must make the best decision that we can with the information that we have," stated the Count glumly.

"I will ask the Lord Ernest to speak with his men," stated Albert, thinking of the Prince's spy network. "Their information is always good. I just pray that it will arrive on time..."

Chapter 14

The Duke of Rectra sat in his office, a small stone room in a small outbuilding of the palace grounds, pulling his furs about him in hopes of keeping out the constant cold. A soldier stood before him, a thin young man with dark hair and a face filled with sharp features. Cold eyes stared at the Duke as his left hand tapped patiently on the hilt of his sword.

"There must be a chink in the armor," stated the Duke moodily. "Even if the Gronolian's do not succeed in gaining the treaty they seek, they have alerted King Alex and the Zambelians. They will still be able to interfere with our lord and master's plans even if there is no treaty..."

"We need a distraction, milord," stated the soldier, his voice harsh and grating.

"A distraction internal to Zambelia," stated the Duke. "Someone or something that could stir up a problem for us at the moment we wish to strike. Do you have someone in mind, Ragar?"

Ragar laughed, the Duke of Rectra finding the noise even less enchanting than his voice.

"I have no idea of who is who amongst the Zambelians, but I know some sources I can use. May I ask if you have any suggestions milord?"

The Duke shook his head, "I doubt that you will find anyone close to the King to latch onto, he chooses his servants wisely. Still, there have to be some who are not enamored of their king. I would suggest seeking them out and starting there."

Ragar shook his head and turned to exit.

"And make sure to take off your uniform," called out the Duke. "We do not need an incident..."

Ragar glared at him over his shoulder for an instant. Did this fool take him for an amateur? Shaking his head, he resumed his march out of the door.

"As my lord commands," he snapped adding under his breath, "idiot..."

***

Lord Parker rode his mount hard over the fields of his estate, angry with himself and everything else. Thundering across the fields he finally slowed his horse and finally drawing to a halt, he stared out upon the snow covered beauty it presented to his eye. It was clean and white and without blemish and seemed to stretch into the pale blue sky, going on, unceasingly, forever.

He had felt that way once; he had been clean and clear and without blemish. He had enjoyed a love and life that appeared to be perfect and unceasing and then...Gertrude died. The thought struck him like a thunderbolt, as if he was realizing it for the first time. Gertrude had died and his life had descended into a constant turmoil. He had married Susan seeking the purity and happiness he had enjoyed with his beloved and in the beginning, he had almost obtained it, had almost triumphed against the pain and misery that engulfed him. Now, however, now he felt as if he had failed. He had sinned against his vows, had taken another (in truth, many others) to his bed and had squandered both his friendships and fortune for a few moments of pleasure. Perhaps that was not so, perhaps it was for a few moments without pain...

Staring out at the unblemished beauty of the white blanket covering the field, he cursed and spat at the snow. The very earth seemed to mock him, it accused him and enflamed his conscience. He had betrayed his vows, had lost his friends, had sullied his name and for what? For pleasure, for the gratification of his urges, for his own selfishness, because he had come to believe that nothing matter but what he wanted.

He thought of Susan, so beautiful, so enticing and so very sensual; what sane man would have sought gratification outside of such a union? Had she ever refused him? She seemed almost as insatiable as he was and yet it was not enough. The entire court marveled at her, she was seen as being as physically stunning as Gertrude and yet he had never looked at or thought of another woman when he was with Gertrude. With Susan, he could do nothing against the lust he felt for every woman he met. And still, he lusted for Susan, still longed to caress her flesh, to join with her, to make love to her.

How long had it been since he had seen his friends, he wondered, how long had it been since he had prayed? He felt the cold wrapping its icy fingers around him, clutching at his arms and legs, making them ache in the ever expanding death of winter. He shook his head at the whiteness, at the beauty of the unmarked field of snow and turned his back upon it. He had chosen a different course; from now on he would never look upon such unmarked beauty as anything other than a mockery...

***

Heather was sitting on a sofa that had been placed in the library, valiantly trying to get comfortable but unable to find a position that she enjoyed. Randy hovered nearby but made no move to assist her, fearing that he might provoke her temper should he try to help.

Behind Randy, Lady Pauline stood quietly, trying not to intrude on the conversation but finding herself unable to leave the room in a tactful manner. She had been by the windows when Annalisse had entered and had immediately curtsied as protocol required. Her intention had been to leave immediately so that the Princess and Heather might visit uninterrupted. Unfortunately, between the placement of the furniture and the fact that Sarah had been standing too near the door to allow her to exit without causing a distraction, Pauline found herself with no place to go. Finally, glancing at the Princess and then looking down at the ground, she eased her way back towards the wall, hoping no one would notice her.

"I think that the Earl enjoys looking at the Princess," giggled Sarah.

Heather raised an eyebrow, "And why should he not? Is not the Princess a beautiful woman?"

"Of course she is, but what I meant was that he looks at her in a particular way," stated Sarah.

"You mean in the same particular way that most of the men in the court enjoy looking at the Princess," replied Heather. Turning her attention to Annalisse she smiled, "Thank you for coming to see me, Annalisse. I always look forward to your company; I just hope my company is not too much of a burden."

"Nonsense," smiled Annalisse. "How do you feel, Heather?"

"Much better, I suppose," confessed Heather. "Still, if it were not for Randy and Pauline running about and trying to keep me on an even keel I think someone might have been murdered by now."

"You are not that bad, my love," laughed Randy.

"I think Pauline would disagree," smiled Heather, glancing back at her cousin.

"As Lady Stasha said, you must be forgiven an occasional display of temper," replied Pauline softly.

"Won't you join us, Lady Pauline?" asked Annalisse, gesturing for her to take a seat in the chair next to her.

Pauline drew closer and gingerly lowered herself into the chair, "I do not wish to intrude..."

"You are not intruding, Pauline," laughed Heather. "You are all that stands between mass murder and those who visit me. As her brother is the Queen's Champion, at the moment you are the Princess' Champion."

Pauline smiled her crooked smile, "Really Heather, you are not that bad..."

Annalisse looked over her shoulder at Sarah and laughed, "Well, are you going to stand there all day?"

"You did not invite me to sit," giggled Sarah, taking her place beside Pauline.

"How is Jonathan?" asked Heather.

"Nervous about the tournament and...other things," smiled Annalisse.

"I know he will do well in the tournament," stated Sarah. "He is very skillful and so graceful..."

"Jonathan was the best fighter amongst all of us," stated Randy. "I think that he should do very well..."

"What about...other things?" smiled Heather.

"I cannot say," replied Annalisse. "He seems much taken with the Princess, but he has doubts; I suppose it is only natural..."

"It would be much easier if it were less public," stated Randy. "I feel for him. It is not easy to try and woo a lady, it must be horrible to try and do so with the entire court watching and commenting on your every word and action."

"Any girl would be lucky to have the Prince pay attention to her," stated Sarah. "Besides being handsome he is so accomplished and intelligent..."

"Jonathan is far too modest to think so," replied Heather.

"Will you stay for the tournament?" asked Annalisse. "I am certain that he would feel better to have you and Randy about..."

"Randy is to be one of his seconds," stated Heather. "He wanted to enter the tournament himself, but I told him I was not taking the chance on his being injured when I need him most."

"Wilton will be Jonathan's other second," stated Randy.

"Did Lady Ellen voice an objection to his participating?" asked Sarah.

"I do not know," stated Heather. "As long as he does not get mud upon her gown, I am sure she has no serious reservations..."

"I do not believe she objected," stated Randy. "Wilton is much preoccupied lately, however. I suppose it is the same for all newlyweds..."

"Yes, someone must carry the latest acquisitions when they are purchased," stated Heather tartly as the others laughed.

"Lady Ellen does seem to enjoy beautifying both their home and herself," laughed Randy.

"She is lovely," stated Sarah. "She is one of the greatest beauties in the kingdom. I thought at one time that she and the Prince..."

"Though she is my cousin and I love her, I think the Prince was fortunate to have avoided that fate, don't you agree Pauline?" asked Heather.

Pauline looked at the floor, remembering the quest Jonathan had taken and some of the words and actions of her cousin Ellen.

"The Prince deserves every happiness," she replied shyly. "I do not believe he would have made a wise choice in courting Ellen. She is my cousin and I pray for her happiness, but I do not think that she and the Prince are compatible, at least not from what I gleaned from our journey together..."

"I do not think that Jonathan would have agreed with you initially, Lady Pauline, but I think that time has tempered his judgment upon the matter," replied Annalisse. "I know that he wishes Wilton and Ellen well and I believe he is most sincere in his good wishes toward them."

"Most of the men were quite taken with Ellen," stated Heather. "She is very lovely, there is no doubt about that, but there is more to marriage than appearances..."

"Or first impressions," stated Randy. "If I recall correctly, you were not overly enamored of me upon our first meeting."

Heather laughed, "Upon our first hundred meetings, I would think is more accurate..."

The others laughed as a servant entered with refreshments. Together the group spent a pleasant afternoon

Chapter 15

As Ernest rode ahead of the coach on his pure white stallion Champion, his ever present smile played upon his face leaving his sons curious as to what he was thinking.

"Father, what are you smiling about?" asked Peter finally as he stared up at his father as he sat in front of him on the horse.

"Father is up to something," stated Joseph from his own horse. "He always smiles like that when he is about to do something."

"Do not be concerned about me," laughed Ernest. "I am just thinking of your uncle and some of the ways in which we used to pass the time. You two will do the same when you are my age..."

Inside the coach that trailed behind them, Donna, Daphne, Celeste and Anna spoke rapidly.

"I cannot imagine what your vision means, but do you think it wise to keep it from your husband?" asked Celeste.

"Until I know more, I cannot let Ernest know what I have seen," replied Donna. Turning her attention to Daphne, she continued, "I must know, Daphne, I must. It has been years since I first told the Glorious One of my vision and this is the third apparition with the same theme. He MUST know what it means."

"I cannot say, my dear," replied Daphne. "We cannot be certain. It is normal that after three apparitions, the truth of a vision becomes clear, but not always and while each vision seems to indicate the same occurrence, there are multiple factors to consider..."

"Daphne, do not toy with me," stated Donna. "The vision has only become clearer, it's meaning undeniable. I MUST know if my husband will die, I must..." Donna dissolved into tears, "It cannot mean that, oh God, please..."

The three women reached out, grabbing her hands, each speaking words of comfort.

"You must not allow yourself to worry so," stated Daphne finally. "I admit it seems bad, but we do not know. The Glorious One is even now coming to meet us at Wharton and I promise you that we will do all that is in our powers to persuade him to answer us. Donna, we love Ernest, not as you do, but he is a good and kind man, if a bit mad, and we all fear for his life. Please, Donna, be strong a little while longer. The Glorious One will not deny us, of this I am certain."

"What if it is as I have seen it?" asked Donna, dabbing at her eyes and trying to calm herself.

"You don't know dear," replied Anna. "You yourself said that you do not know for certain."

"It is no better if the King dies," replied Donna. "I have no wish to sacrifice Alex, he has been as generous and kind to me as Ernest has, in certain ways more so...how could I live knowing he will die and do nothing to stop it?"

"We will speak with the Glorious One and he will not deny us," replied Daphne firmly. "He must answer us this time, he must..."

***

Count Bartran once again read the letter he held in his hands and paused. The situation was a delicate one but he could not in good conscience continue to assist Parker financially. Further assistance could endanger his own financial health. This was the third request for assistance in as many months. It was a situation that had to be dealt with delicately, but how?

Slowly, the Count arose and sought out his old friend, the Lord Albert. Approaching Albert's door, he leaned heavily upon his staff and slowed. He hated to bother Albert with a personal problem, but he needed counsel on how to act and there was no more thoughtful and intelligent man in the kingdom. With a discreet knock, the Count entered his friend's study.

As the Count entered he found Albert on his feet, arms opened to embrace him. The two friends held one another for a moment and then Albert gestured Bartran to a chair.

"Sit, my friend, sit, it is so good to see you again," smiled Albert. "Have you come to some conclusion regarding our Gronolian problem?"

"I am afraid that I am here to steal the time of a busy man and stealing it away from an urgent issue," smiled Bartran. "I apologize Albert but I need your advice, my dear friend. Could you please look at this letter, it will explain all."

Albert gave him a curious glance as he took the scroll and unrolling it, read the contents. After he had digested the letter, he looked up at Bartran who spoke.

"He has asked me for several loans in the past, totaling about twenty thousand golds," stated Bartran confidentially. "I do not know what they spend the money on, but I cannot continue to assist him, it has begun to tell on my own finances. One day, all that I have will be Jacob's but if I continue to help Parker, I will have nothing to leave to him or to even to live upon."

"You have no idea what the money goes for?" asked Albert.

"None, my friend, none," replied Bartran. "Things have gotten so that we rarely communicate anymore other than for me to ask if I might take Jacob with me or keep him with me and on the odd occasion when Parker requests a loan...We were so close once. I looked upon Parker as a son, Albert, but now..." Bartran shook his head mournfully.

"How is Jacob?" asked Albert softly.

"He is well," replied Bartran distractedly. "He had taken a walk with his Uncle Alex in the garden today. When they returned he seemed preoccupied but he always gets more thoughtful when he comes to Wharton. I believe that he feels closer to his mother here...I am blessed my friend, we are together almost constantly. Still, he loathes his step mother and they fight when he is home...his being with me seems like the best solution to that problem."

Albert nodded and gingerly pointing to the paper said, "If you cannot afford to help him, the answer seems simple enough..."

"It is not so simple," stated Bartran. "If I do not assist him, I fear he will have little reason to allow me to maintain contact with him. His new wife has no use for me other than to take Jacob and if I refuse to help, they might deprive me of the boy's company. I do not like to live in fear, Albert and I do not wish to be coerced, but I must have Jacob near me...he is all I have left of my Gertrude, don't you see?"

Albert reached out and gently touched his friend's hand, "Bartran, you cannot allow them to blackmail you using Jacob. Perhaps if we could find what the money goes for we could help Parker without his knowing it, solve the problem so that he would no longer burden you with it. Let me make some inquiries...I would advise you send him a message saying that you do not think you can help him, be honest with him, but tell him you will speak to me about arranging a loan if he so desires. In the meantime, I will look into things and get back to you regarding the situation."

Bartran nodded, "Thank you, Albert. I will send him a message right away."

"Take a few days in answering," advised Albert. "We do not know what we are looking for, it may take us longer to find it than we know..."

***

Sheri's home was a cottage at the end of the village. Parker's affair with Sheri had been one of his first and had produced a son. Upon learning that she was pregnant, Parker had hastily arranged for her to be courted and married by the local blacksmith, a man named Mullins.

For his part, Mullins had never believed his luck. True, he was an ordinary man with a good business, but had never been very successful with the ladies until he had been introduced by the Lord Parker to this beautiful woman. He had fallen in love almost instantly and was shocked to find out that she would consent to marry him. Before he knew it, he had become a father and now, to his great pride, he would soon be a father once again.

Parker still visited Sheri, sometimes for romantic reasons but most often in order to pay her for her silence and for the upkeep of his son. Mullins, a hard working man who kept long hours each day, never suspected what was going on down the street from his shop in his well appointed home.

Today, Parker had been hoping for a little physical companionship despite Sheri's present circumstances, but he had barely entered through the back door when his lover had begun pestering him for an increase in his payments.

"You will have to wait," stated Parker, annoyed at the request. "Money does not grow on trees, I can assure you."

"Wait?" asked Sheri, with a sly smile. "As I remember it, milord, you could not be persuaded to wait, not for an instant. You were most anxious last time..."

Parker frowned as he looked away, disgusted with himself. Sheri was in her eighth month but she still was a beautiful woman. If you were looking at her straight on, she looked most alluring; it was not until she offered her profile that most people realized that she was rather round about the middle. This second child was in fact Mullins offspring, but Sheri saw no reason to be concerned about that fact. She had told Parker it was his child in order to obtain an increase in her allowance and how could Parker hope to prove otherwise? As to her first child, no one in the village believed that he was Mullins', he was the spitting image of his true father.

Mullins was a large, squat man, with dark features, course black hair and olive colored skin. Their first "son" was fair and blonde with light eyes. Sheri also had dark hair and eyes and when questioned about her son's appearance always made the excuse that her father's family were all blondes, a story few in the village believed. Most of those in the village had seen or heard from reliable sources about the Lord Parker's afternoon visits to her and had drawn the correct conclusion.

"I am having some financial trouble," Parker finally confessed. "I cannot increase your allowance at this time..."

Turning to showcase her rounded belly she laughed, "You did not mind increasing my family at this time..."

Parker looked around nervously, "Lower your voice, do you want the neighbors to hear?"

"Do you honestly think that the neighbors do not see your comings and goings?" she laughed. "Do you honestly believe the sudden glut of blonde haired boys has gone without comment in the village?" Waddling closer to him, she peered into his eyes, "Oh, my dear, you are simple minded. Other than the husbands, your secret is well known."

"If that is so, why do I bother to pay you?" he snapped.

"Because women gossiping about you is one thing, men forming a group to string you up for mistreating their wives is quite another," she replied evenly. "There are some people who frown upon men taking advantage of servant girls. I believe that King Alex might even dislike the idea..."

Parker's eyes went wide in astonishment, "You would not dare..."

"I've heard he is a kind fellow, the King, very sympathetic," laughed Sheri. "I am certain that I could whip up some tears and then I would give my story...a poor lonely orphan girl taken advantage of by a ruthless, lusting lord..."

Parker grabbed her arm, "That's enough..."

"Who do you think he would believe, Parker?" she sneered, ripping her arm from his grasp. "Now get out of my house and bring back my money or King Alex will hear about the one sport his wife's champion is a TRUE champion at!"

Parker's fury rose. Turning on his heel, he left her laughing in her parlor. Leaving through the back door, he slammed the door and looked up. Women gazed down at him from across the neighbor's yards, young and old, some trying to hide the fact that they were looking, but most blatantly staring at him. Parker marched to his horse and mounted it, giving it a hard kick. The horse bolted from the yard and as he headed for the main road, he heard a sound that he thought was laughter...the laughter of women.

Chapter 16

Joseph and Jacob walked down the corridor and into Joseph's room, the two friends entering and carefully barring the door. Crossing to the bed, the two lowered themselves upon it and began speaking in low whispers.

"What have they taught you?" asked Jacob anxiously.

"Quite a bit since we last met," stated Joseph. "Before we begin, however, I want to tell you that you need not worry about Peter, he has no powers, Daphne confirmed it."

Jacob frowned, "How did he take it?"

"He was happy," laughed Joseph. "He sees it as having less school work to do..."

Jacob smiled, "I suppose that is true. Peter is much more like your father than you are, he is much less serious about things..."

"I suppose you are right," shrugged Joseph. "I suppose the responsibility of learning magic makes me more serious..."

"Have you heard anything that might explain..." began Jacob, leaving the sentence to finish itself.

"No," replied Joseph. "In all of the texts that I have been given I have found no exception and I have asked Daphne point blank and she states that it is impossible."

"Maybe it is," replied Jacob. "I have spoken to my grandfather and I have asked everyone who ever knew anything about my mother and they never noticed anything remotely suspicious..."

"What about your father?" asked Joseph. "You can get it from your father's side too, you know..."

"I understand that, but no, my father has no such powers." Jacob stood and began to pace. "There must be something about it somewhere..."

"Perhaps I could ask the Glorious One," replied Joseph. "I meet with him sometimes and we speak of all sorts of things..."

"No, you must be careful about what you say, especially to him," stated Jacob emphatically. "No one can know."

"Don't worry about it," replied Joseph quickly. "Did I not tell Mama that I moved the portrait of your mother when we were younger? I took the blame to keep your secret hidden. You remember how angry she was then and I have never said a word..."

"I appreciate all it, believe me," stated Jacob. "In all honesty, you did help..."

"I only directed you," replied Joseph. "What I do not understand is why they cannot see it."

"I do not understand what you mean by that," replied Jacob.

"Everyone with the gift has an aura, that is what Daphne calls it," stated Joseph. "When you are trained in the art, you can see it. I could see it before I began training, I just thought it was something that everyone saw, I did not realize that it was part of the gift. Everyone else must be trained to see it, but for me it just happened. I can see your aura, but yours is unlike anyone's I have seen previously. Most people's aura flows outwards, but yours seems to flow towards you. Also, it is extremely faint; you have to be looking for it in order to spot it. I suppose since they did not think that either of your parents had the gift, they never looked for it in you."

"Perhaps I do not REALLY possess the gift," Jacob suggested. "Maybe it was just a passing phase. I have not tried to do anything in a while..."

"Order the book on my table to come here," stated Joseph.

Jacob looked at the book and pointing to it said softly, "Come here..."

The book did nothing for a moment and then slowly rose of its own accord and floated to his outstretched hand.

"You did not do that?" Jacob asked hopefully.

"I did nothing," replied Joseph. "The entire occurrence was of your doing."

"How can it be?" asked Jacob softly. "How can I possess the gift? It makes no sense..."

"I cannot say," replied Joseph. "For the time being, we will have to be satisfied with not knowing. In the meantime, let me tell you what I have learned since our last meeting. If we are to keep your secret, you must learn how to conceal it..."

***

Jonathan was mounted upon his horse, Thunderbolt, dressed in full armor. With a gentle kick, the horse cantered smoothly out onto the tournament field for the jousting event. With Wilton and Randy acting as his seconds, he approached the field to find Brogdan standing nervously just outside of the jousting circle apparently looking for him. Jonathan drew to a halt beside him and the big man looked him over.

"Remember your training," barked Brogdan, "and do not let your mind wander to ladies or court or anything unimportant, do you understand?"

"Yes," replied Jonathan with a smile. "I promise to do my best to make you proud..."

"To hell with making me proud," replied Brogdan, "if anything happens to you it will be my head."

Jonathan laughed, Brogdan was always nervous whenever his charges were in an event. Jonathan glanced up and saw his opponent lining up for the first run, so he made his way out towards his starting mark and heard the crowd cheering lustily as he entered the arena. Concentrate, he warned himself. Make mother and father proud.

On the main dais, Alex and Marie sat together, holding hands, each trying not to let the other see their nervousness as the moment approached. Beside Marie, Annalisse sat, scanning the seats and then the field, unwilling to admit to herself that she was looking for anyone specific.

"There he is," stated Marie tightly. "He looks good..."

"Yes, he looks excellent," agreed Alex, his voice overly controlled.

The Princess Caroline sat beside the royal family and had been chosen to begin the tournament with the dropping of her handkerchief. The two horsemen approached the stands and saluted the King and Queen and then one another. Caroline rose and strode gingerly to the front of the platform. To her surprise, she received an enormous round of applause, a fact that made her uneasy.

She had no wish to deceive these people. Did they think they were looking upon the Prince's future bride? Had she given Jonathan that impression? She liked Jonathan; he was a good man, a kind and very handsome man... Perhaps she should consider courting him. Could she make the sacrifices that courting him would demand? Would she fall in love with him or resent him and make him unhappy?

Glancing back up, she forced herself to smile. As the crowd grew quiet, she waited until the two horsemen were in position and then raised her handkerchief. The people waited anxiously, expecting her to say a few words, but instead, she merely glanced back at the King and Queen, who nodded their approval and she released the cloth that was held by her fingers and returned to her seat. By the time she had regained her seat, Jonathan had unseated his opponent, a fact greeted with elation by the crowd and apparent relief by the King and Queen. Many eyes were upon her, noting her reaction.

"See how pleasantly she smiles," whispered several of the older ladies of the court.

"There will be an announcement soon, you mark my words..."

The tournament went on for the entire afternoon, at which time the first day of the tournament officially ended and the participants, winners and losers both, repaired to the dining hall at Wharton to receive both their praise and their dinner. Jonathan was well ahead of the other contestants in points, his skill drawing many comments of admiration. When he appeared at dinner, he received applause that was both robust and genuine.

"So much like his father," stated one knight.

"Nothing of the kind," laughed the other. "He's much more graceful, though decidedly less strong..."

"Does it matter," laughed the first one, raising his glass, "the result is the same! The opponents fall like rainwater..."

"He will take the tournament by twenty points," stated the other.

"I'll wager he won't take it by more than twenty," stated the first, reaching for his purse.

"Twenty or under is you, twenty one or over is me!" spat the man.

The evening was loud and boisterous and filled with many boasts and lots of betting.

***

In an inn far north of Wharton, Ragar entered and slung his travel bag upon the bar, ordering a warming draught and inquiring about a room for the night. The bartender directed him to a place upstairs and after he had finished his drink and depositing his money upon the bar, he took his bag to his room. Retracing his route, he entered upon the main room in search of some dinner. A young woman made her way to his table and after taking his order, left to find the cook.

The other diners paid no attention to the young man who preferred to ignore them. He would be in Wharton in a week and while he had a general idea of the actions he would take, he was keeping his ears open for any suggestions that might enhance his plans.

The waitress returned and began to place his food upon the table, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Where are you from?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.

"I come from Darma," he stated casually. "I've had it with the cold, I'm going south in search of warmer pleasures."

The girl laughed and he looked at her for the first time. She had long brown hair and a pleasant if not beautiful face. Her clothing hid her shape, but she seemed well built and sturdy from the little he could glean.

"You the innkeeper's daughter?" he asked.

The girl shook her head, "His daughter, good God no. Just work here is all..."

"Live here as well?" asked Ragar.

"Not likely," she replied. "Got my own room down the block, looking to buy a small farm..."

"No man?" he asked.

"Had one," she sniffed. "Done with men..."

"He sounds like a charmer," laughed Ragar.

"Oh, he was a charmer alright," she replied with a frown. "Golden hair, handsome and strong, a lord, mind you! Ever so polite, he was charming and all wonderful manners until you got him behind a closed door. Then he was all hands and out of his clothes before you could blink! Found out he wasn't only a noble man, he was married to boot! Funny thing was I refused him and then told his wife about it and SHE saw to it that I was escorted out of town! Told me she didn't need my kind around her place..."

"Some women are blind to their men's faults," replied the man, grabbing the bread she had set upon the table and tearing it with his teeth.

"She weren't blind to his fault," replied the girl with a knowing nod, "she encouraged them."

"Encouraged them?" Ragar asked, unable to contain his surprise.

"Damn noblemen and women," she spat. "I wouldn't have a place amongst them for all the gold there is. Disgusting, that's what they are, disgusting. She wanted me to let him have his way, even offered to pay me, like I was some sort of prostitute."

"Did you report them?" asked the traveler, munching on his bread.

"Report them?" she said. "To who? No one would believe me against the word of the King's friend. To hell with them, I said, and I left, left that very day. I'd don't make much here, but it's honest and if anyone touches me, I tell Nick the barkeep and he takes care of them. A woman is treated like a lady here, I can tell you that!"

Ragar took in her tale and then smiled at her with as much charm as he could muster.

"I can see why he fancied you," he confessed. "Do you ever have a drink with one of your customers?"

The girl blushed and smiled, "Well, when I get off work I do, but not before."

"When do you get off work?" he asked softly, leaning back in his chair. "I have got all night..."

Chapter 17

Annalisse sat opposite her brother at a breakfast table set up in a private room at Wharton, unsure of how to respond to his question. Jonathan had asked her to join him at breakfast in the hopes of getting her opinions on the Princess Caroline. While he always appreciated and valued Annalisse' opinion, he had found what little she said so far much less enjoyable than the breakfast.

"Yes, of course I spoke with her," smiled Annalisse. "She is very beautiful, Jonathan and she seems very nice..."

Jonathan grimaced, "You have said that already, Annalisse. I do not mean to sound impatient, but were you able to find out any clue as to what she might be thinking in regards to me?"

Annalisse shrugged her shoulders, "We spoke in generalities, I am afraid. I asked her about her homeland, her sisters, about everything I could think of, hopefully without making her feel as if I were interrogating her. She is an intelligent, pleasant woman who I am afraid has very little true interest in tournaments."

"She said that?" asked Jonathan.

"Not in so many words," stated Annalisse, "but when she relaxed a bit with me, she certainly joked about how boring it is to sit in the stands and watch jousting."

"Do you find it so?" asked Jonathan, trying not to let his disappointment show.

Annalisse laughed, "You know I do not. I enjoy sports, Jonathan, but Princess Caroline seems to enjoy politics and court life more."

Jonathan raised an eyebrow and gestured for her to continue.

"She seemed interested in knowing who is whom and what service they provide for Daddy... she spoke at some length regarding court affairs and foreign policy matters as regards her own father's realm... she obviously loves her homeland very much."

"Perhaps I need to speak to her more about politics and policy," he stated. "I know a little regarding Albria's position in the world and I do have an interest in it as well..."

Annalisse smiled, "I hope that it gives you two some common ground..."

Jonathan nodded, lost in thought for a moment.

After a time, he commented, "I understand that you and Sarah met with Heather yesterday..."

"Yes...we had a very nice time, though she is so uncomfortable it makes my heart break for her. If it were not for Randy and Lady Pauline, she swears she would have harmed someone already..."

Jonathan smiled, "I hope that she will begin to feel better soon." Taking a sip of his morning coffee, he squinted at her, "Father has spoken to me about the Gronolo delegation's request and asked for my opinion. On the one hand, they make an excellent point that they serve as a buffer between us and the Kingdom of Darma, but I also wonder if the affair is it truly our concern."

"It will be if they are invaded by Darma," stated Annalisse, a bit too quickly. Regaining her composure, she continued less hurriedly, "We would not want the Darmians at our door..."

Jonathan nodded, "I wonder what the Princess would think?"

Annalisse forced a smile as her brother retreated to his thoughts about the Princess. She wished she could be of more assistance to him, but she too was having a hard time concentrating on the topic at hand. She thought of the earl and her heart seemed to beat faster. Why lately did he always seem to be in her thoughts?

***

The Glorious One sat on a short stool in the middle of the room, a small parlor on the second floor of the castle and looked up at the women, all of whom seemed extremely anxious for him to speak. The Glorious one was an elderly man with a bald head save for a fringe of white that wrapped its way around his head at ear level before melding into a long, white beard. His clear eyes and pleasant face coupled with his stocky body and plain attire made him appear to be the least glorious person imaginable. Still, he was the most powerful wizard known and his word was law for those who practiced the craft.

Looking up at the women he softly sighed. His actions seemed to make them all tremble. The Glorious One only sighed when he had bad news to deliver.

"Donna, my child, come here," he said softly.

Donna stepped forward, feeling as though her legs had turned to water. Standing before the Glorious One, she tried not to show her fear, but was having little success.

"Donna," he began, "you have had this vision, or variations of this vision to be more accurate, three times now. I cannot deny to you that it portends evil things..."

"Will my husband die?" she asked, her voice breaking on the last word, her pain palpable.

"I do not know," stated the Glorious One truthfully. "The event you see, both the event and the aftermath, are not certain yet. Every time you see the vision, something has happened that has made its possibility more likely, but it is not certain as of yet."

"Does Susan figure in these things?" asked Donna. "I must know..."

"My child, do not demand what I will not give," he stated seriously. Donna took a half step back, "Do not be frightened Donna, you know that I too have to obey rules. I will tell you this, there is little that you can do to change the final outcome. Though to say more is against everything we preach, however, I will tell you this; I will see if I might steer the course of events away from the conclusion that your vision attests to if I can do so within the terms of our craft. If I can do anything, child, I promise, it will be done."

Donna nodded, knowing she could ask for nothing more.

"One more thing," stated the Glorious One, staring at the floor with an unhappy frown. "You must contact me immediately if you should have another vision, immediately. Do not wait, time may be of the essence. Now ladies; that is all I can do."

The women looked sympathetically at Donna who took a deep breath and then pulled herself to her full height. Peering down at the Glorious One, she forced herself to smile.

"Will you do us the honor," she whispered, "of joining us for lunch, Glorious One?"

Smiling up at her, the Glorious One stood and took her arm.

"You have always been brave, my child," he replied. "I would love to dine with you. Be of good cheer, we will not give up without a fight..."

***

Eva lay on the bed beside Parker, wrapped in his arms, her hands gently stroking his chest as he brooded. Eva smiled and turned, propping herself up on an elbow and smiling at him.

"What distracts my lover so?" she asked in a sensual whisper.

"Your lover has many concerns," he replied curtly. Rolling onto his back, he stared at the ceiling. He had never confided in any of his lovers but somehow, he could no longer contain his thoughts from forming into words. "I am desperately low on funds and I grow more so every day. My wife spends money as if I had an unlimited supply and I have expenses she knows nothing about that if she ever found out about would be the death of me."

"Some men are poor gamblers," ventured Eva gently.

Parker laughed a short, harsh sound, "Even poor gamblers win on occasion. My fortunes are depleted for different reasons..."

Eva smiled, it was as she had suspected. Susan's plan was becoming more obvious. She had seen the noble malcontents that frequented Susan's dinners, odd companions for the former Queen's Champion. Yes, it was all making a lot more sense now. Her own plan formed quickly in her mind. Yes, she must not be with child, not if she were to be present at the proper moment.

"You are troubled, milord," she purred. "Do I not distract you?"

"That is my problem," replied Parker in a moan. "I am TOO distracted, all of the time. Distracted from what truly matters..."

"And what truly matters, my lover?" she asked. Parker stared at her, not comprehending at first her meaning. Eva shook her head as she stroked his face with her hand, "The brilliant, accomplished and beloved Lord Parker is stuck with an ungrateful wife and a list of debts that trouble him and keep him from enjoying life. Is that fair? You have been a renowned and good man all of your life and all you want is a little comfort, a little peace and even here, in your own home, you cannot enjoy it. You must sneak about seeking comfort in your lover's arms."

"Technically, my ungrateful wife should be my lover," he chuckled. "Actually, I should not call her ungrateful...it is not her fault..."

"If she gave you the peace you desire, the home that you long for, you would be a good and faithful husband," purred Eva, kissing his chest and drawing closer. "Were you not so to your first wife?"

"Yes," he stammered. "I would never have acted this way if Gertrude had not died..."

"You are the same," continued Eva, "what is different? She may not be ungrateful, perhaps I speak too strongly, but she does not love you well, my lover..." she drew closer, nibbling his ear, her hands roaming further down his body. "No, my Parker, you need a woman who puts you first, a woman who adores you...you, not your money. A woman who's ambition is your ambition..."

"Yes," whispered Parker, his body responding to the sensation of her expert hands upon him. "I deserve happiness..."

"Yes, my love," she responded, kissing her way down his chest as she stroked his erect member. "You deserve one who puts you first in all things, who serves you, who is your slave..."

As her lips encircled him, Parker moaned. Susan did not put him first. Oh in the beginning she did, but now, now all she cared about was the house, about spending money on parties, entertaining people he would never have had in the house before. Her friends, always blathering on about who said what at court, all of them working at intrigues, all of them seeking promotion of their interests alone. What of his interests? While his money provided for them all, he sank into debt and they talked nonsense and treason. No, this had to stop, this madness had to end.

Parker peered down at Eva, watched as she delicately licked and kissed him, saw the adoration in her eyes, felt her passion for him burning through her hands, her body, her touch. With a woman like that he could do anything, be anything. Eva smiled up at him as her hands took over the ministrations she had been performing upon him.

"What does my master desire?" she said in a smoky voice.

Reaching down, he placed his hand upon the back of her head and guided her back to himself. She eagerly consumed him, acting only to please him. Parker's lust rose higher and higher, he felt as if every muscle in his body were constricting, every nerve begging for release.

Lifting her mouth from him, she purred her desire, "Order me master, I must obey..."

As he peered down at her with glassy eyes, she smiled and renewed her assault, licking the length of him before rising up and straddling him, sliding onto him with a throaty moan that sent erotic shivers through his body.

"Order me my love," she pleaded, "order me..."

He could stand it no longer, the waves broke over him and filled her with his release and still she did not slow, her body riding him in a frenzy. At last she too cried out and collapsed onto his chest, her hot breath pulsating across his chest as he melted back into the mattress, spent and exhausted.

Slowly she drew herself off of him and slithered up his side. Reaching over, she began to stroke his hair.

Whispering to him she said, "Sleep my angel, sleep my one and only master..."

Parker's eyes could not remain open and he drifted off to sleep, feeling at peace for the first time in a long time.

Chapter 18

The tournament ended that morning and for Jonathan, had been an unqualified success. He had been presented a golden laurel leaf crown by his mother as the champion and all agreed that no one had ever won a tournament as convincingly or with as much style. Both Brogdan and Albert were well pleased with his performance and Jonathan was extremely pleased to have done so well in his first venture as his mother's champion.

To make his triumph even better, Princess Caroline had been amongst the first to congratulate him, squeezing his hand and seeming genuinely pleased and impressed. Perhaps she did not like sports, but she was kind and lavish in her praise and it made him think that perhaps they had more in common than he had originally thought.

In her suite of rooms at Wharton, the Princess dressed for dinner, smiling in the mirror. Ignoring her maidservants, her thoughts drifted to the tournament. While normally they bored her, she found herself appreciating the effort that the participants had put forth, especially Jonathan. Her thoughts of him caused her to smile; he seemed so pleased with his triumph that it was all a bit contagious. Ordering her servants to leave her, she sat at her vanity, brushing her hair and speaking to her image in the mirror, a habit she had formed in childhood.

"He is very kind and handsome," she stated. "It would not be a bad thing to have an athletic, muscular husband..." Her thoughts began to conflict, however. "If you were to marry, you would become Queen of Zambelia and Vesek as well as Albria...what girl would not want that?" She frowned at herself, "I know, I know...he would never consent to rule his kingdom from Albria. To him, Albria would be the least important of his domains, while for me, it is my very heart and soul..." She frowned and looked down at the top of her vanity.

A short time ago she had planned to gently suggest the impossibility of their union. They were two people who wanted different things and while he was kind and handsome and capable, she would be miserable living here. But somehow, the excitement of the tournament, the kindness of the people, the handsomeness of the Prince, they all seemed to make what had been clear, unclear and what had been certain, suddenly hazy.

She rose and crossed to her bed. How she wished her father or one of her sisters was here to confide in. Could she agree to court him? Perhaps even to marry him? She tried to think of what sort of life they would lead, what sort of family they would have...Would she be his partner, ruling with him or a mere titled character who produced children at regular intervals and threw parties? She placed her hands upon her temples and closed her eyes.

"You have time," she murmured. "He will not ask tonight, if he asks at all. If he says anything, it will be when we go to his home at Angelrod. He will act there. You must try to find out all that you can, you must be prepared to answer him, it is only fair."

She took a deep breath; why did he have to be so handsome?

***

The Glorious One leaned against the bench, listening to the music being played in the room beside this one as he looked out the window at the gardens at Wharton. He was pleased that the ladies had finally left him on his own to enjoy himself for a short time. The Glorious One would not stay for dinner as they had requested at breakfast; he had other errands to run.

Listening to the music made him think back to his youth, to a garden quite like the one below, to the carefree times he had spent there. It had been the garden of his master, of the man who had taught him the craft, who had encouraged him and made him feel that he was no less and no more of a man for having his gift. Music was a gift, a gift far greater in his mind than magic and as he heard the final notes of the song drift quietly towards him, he contrasted the life in them with the cold garden and leafless trees beyond the glass and saw the beauty that would be there in a few months, the beauty of life renewed.

Suddenly, the garden began to drift away and the Glorious One began to slip into a vision. He saw a man riding towards a village, in obvious haste; his sword drawn, his expression tense. Turning, he saw the reason for the man's anxiety. It was a creature, golden and large and angry and screaming and it was throwing men as a child throws pebbles, tossing them about the village square like leaves in the wind. The man jumped from his horse and began to do battle with the monster. The creature was stronger, of that there could be no doubt, but the man was skillful and for a time, his skill made the fight an even, but desperate one. Finally, the man found a space in the creature's armor and drove his sword into it and the creature screeched a horrible noise and seizing the man, threw him. The Glorious One watched the creature die, shriveling and changing. He recognized what it had become, even though it was bloody and broken upon the pavement of the square. Turning, he saw the man, lying deathly still upon the pavement, just as broken as the creature and then, no more; the vision was gone.

The Glorious One suddenly felt the cold seeping through the window, a painful and unbearable cold both inside and out, but still he did not move. Something had happened to make the vision truer, to make it almost mandatory. What it was, he did not know, but whatever it was had to have happened but a short time ago, that he knew for certain. He knew he had to be gone on his errand, but he took a moment to bury his face in his hands and to release his pain. He thought of the creature and the man and let his anguish flow from him in bitter tears. It would happen and now he knew to whom...

***

"So you wish me to spy on Parker?" asked Ernest.

Albert frowned, "Not spy on him, obtain some information, that is all..."

"All we know is that he needs money and we do not know what he needs it for," stated Ernest. "Perhaps it is just a crop failing in his village or some sort of natural catastrophe..."

"Or he is overrun by unicorns," replied Albert. "I agree it could be anything, but we don't know what it is, so I am asking you to use your friends to find out."

Ernest shrugged, "You have people..."

"My network is not as extensive as yours in that area," conceded Albert. "You know more sneaks than I do..."

Ernest smiled, "I do, don't I..."

"Yes, you do," replied Albert. "Besides, since rejecting his position as the Queen's Champion, no one has seen him. He has not responded to my missive regarding his original withdrawal of the post, so it is only natural that we follow up in some manner."

"By spying on him," laughed Ernest.

"By checking his state of affairs," corrected Albert.

"His wife's abilities make the situation doubly dangerous," stated Ernest. "Still, I think I know someone who might be able to help us. Give me a day or two..."

"You think you can find out that quickly what is going on?" asked Albert, surprise in his tone.

"It depends of course," replied Ernest, "but I think I have just the person to find out what we need to know..."

Chapter 19

"You go ahead, Randy," stated Heather, her pretty features colored by a dull shade of green.

"I would rather stay with you, my love," replied Randy. "I cannot bear to think of you sitting here ill while I go feasting and dancing..."

"Go," replied Heather. "I will be disagreeable all evening and your presence will only annoy me further. I love you Randy but there are times when I feel like this that I could kill you without a second thought. I am sorry, but it is how I feel."

"I'll go if you allow Pauline to stay with you," countered Randy.

"It is not fair to Pauline," replied Heather, closing her eyes against the growing nausea she was feeling. "Pauline needs to eat and perhaps you could get her to enjoy herself, to dance and have some fun. What a wonderful trip this must be for her, watching me be sick and hearing me complain..."

"She loves you and enjoys your company," countered Randy. "Perhaps we should just allow her to make her own decision."

"You know what she will choose," replied Heather, rolling slightly onto her side and finding her stomach no more cooperative in that position than in the previous one. "Pauline is too loving to think of herself..."

"I will ask her, if she wishes to stay, I cannot prevent her," replied Randy, quickly slipping out of the room before Heather could reply.

Moving swiftly down the hallway, he found Pauline's door and knocked lightly upon it. He found her seated at her vanity, brushing her hair. Turning her round, plain face to him, she blushed slightly. It was not proper to have a young man, even your cousin in law, alone in your chambers with you, but Pauline knew that Randy would not have come to her unaccompanied if it were not for some special reason.

Randy quickly explained Heather's situation and her refusal of his help.

"I will stay with her," replied Pauline softly. "She should not be left alone, Randy, no matter what she says."

"Thank God for you, Pauline," smiled Randy, his relief evident upon his features. "I promise you that I will see that they send up dinner to you..."

Pauline shook her head, "No, you must not send up dinner, Randy. The smell of food makes Heather ill..."

"But you have not eaten," replied Randy.

Pauline considered it.

"Perhaps you could ask them if they would please send up some bread and some fruit. Neither will produce a pungent odor and maybe Heather will be able to stand me eating that," she mused. "Also, if you would, please ask them to send up some crackers and some tea, perhaps I can get her to eat that once her nausea subsides somewhat. We must feed her when she has a chance or she will waste away to nothing."

Randy smiled, "I will see to it, Pauline, I promise. Thank you, thank you dear cousin for taking such good care of her."

Pauline forced a smile, "There is no need to thank me, Randy. She would do the same for me..."

Randy smiled and raced to find a servant to give the instructions too, leaving Pauline alone. Looking at herself in the mirror, she gave herself a depreciating smile. She was certain no one would truly miss her at the dinner, if Heather were not here no one would notice her at all. Still, it did not make the sacrifice any easier. She was not interest in anyone noticing her, but she would lose the opportunity to watch and to see him.

"It is alright," she sighed. "One memory at a distance is as good as another I suppose..."

Chapter 20

Albert sat beside his Stasha, impressed by the dinner she had created for the three hundred guests that sat in the grand hall of Wharton. It was, of course, no small feat to impress her Albert, Stasha knew. He had been to so many lavish dinners that to come up with anything memorable at this point was near impossible, but she smiled at his compliments, pleased that she had made such an impression.

Tonight's grand dinner was a dual celebration, the celebration of Jonathan's victory in the tournament and a farewell celebration for the Lord Chester, who was embarking on his journey to Chanra tomorrow to meet with the new Sultan as the King's special envoy. Asked to give a speech at the beginning of dinner his Lordship had kept the assembly laughing and enthralled; his remarks both exceptionally witty and heartfelt.

To his mortification, Jonathan was next asked to say a few words. Realizing that there was nothing he could say comparable to Lord Chester's words, he offered a brief word of thanks for everyone's gracious kindness to him and then led the assembly in grace.

Seated across from the Princess Caroline, he found it difficult not to stare. The Princess indeed looked breathtaking this evening and her conversation seemed more relaxed and natural than at any previous time. When she smiled at him, which was often, the room seemed to grow lighter and Jonathan found himself relaxing and enjoying his time with her. He was so engaged by her that he never noticed Randy enter and take his place after dinner had started, even though Randy was seated next to Wilton who was seated beside him.

Seated beside Princess Caroline was the Lady Ellen, who was dressed beautifully and was being admired by many of the men in the group. To her surprise, Jonathan barely seemed to notice her, his attention seeming to be exclusively for the Princess. At the end of the table, Albert and Alex exchanged knowing glances and set about making their other guests feel welcome. Perhaps when Jonathan got back from Angelrod, the announcement that they were so anxious to make could finally be made.

At another table, Annalisse sat, trying to make pleasant conversation with those present, but unable to keep from occasionally glancing at the table diagonally across from hers. The Earl of Carria was seated beside his friend, the Earl of Mariar, the two men speaking with the officers and officials at their table. Occasionally she would catch the Earl sneaking a peek in her direction, but as soon as she turned, he became overly interested in his plate or in conversations taking place around him. Finally, the Earl caught her eye and smiled, offering her a slight nod of his head and an enchanting smile.

Annalisse found herself responding, nodding back to him and raising her glass to him. Turning back to her companions, the group did not seem to notice the exchange, but to the Princess, it was the most meaningful part of the entire evening...

***

Jonathan entered the ball room and strode to the center of the floor, every eye upon him. It was time for yet another round of "give the gossips something to think about" and he looked about for a dance partner. This time, however, he had decided that he would fulfill everyone's expectation and he immediately made his way to Princess Caroline and asked for her to dance with him.

The room fell into a hush as the beautiful young woman took his hand and followed him onto the dance floor. Jonathan gestured and the music began to play.

"Thank you for accepting," he stated casually. "I must warn you that the gossips will have us married by morning."

Caroline laughed, "It is the same at home. Every time I speak to someone, there are rumors about my impending engagement."

"It is nice to have someone who understands things from my perspective for once," replied Jonathan. "So many of the young ladies I meet think it would be wonderful to be asked to dance. I have tried it a few times and within the week, they are writing to me requesting that I never ask them to dance again..."

Caroline laughed and then caught sight of Alex and Marie joining them at the far end of the dance floor.

"Your mother looks so tiny beside you father," she remarked.

Jonathan glanced in their direction, "My father is a very large man. My mother once told me that she never feels safer than when she is in his arms."

"I can certainly see why," smiled Caroline. "I must say, after watching you in the tournament these past two days, I am feeling rather safe myself..."

Jonathan smiled at her; how beautiful she is, he thought. Could it happen? Was it happening?

***

Randy discreetly excused himself after the dancing began and raced upstairs to check on Heather. He found his wife propped up with pillows in bed, her complexion closer to its normal hue, listening as Pauline read softly to her. Upon his entrance, Heather smiled and beckoned him closer.

"How was dinner?" she asked as he leaned over and kissed her gently upon the forehead.

"Fine," he replied. "I missed you being there, but the food was good, as it always is...How are you two?"

"I feel much better," replied Heather. "Poor Pauline has been reading to me for the last hour..."

"She was able to eat a little, which makes me feel better," stated Pauline, smiling at her cousin. "I worry that you and the baby are not getting enough to eat..."

"For the first time today I can stand to speak about food," laughed Heather. "I guarantee you that this child will grow to be a huge person; apparently they want to do all of their eating on their own!"

"As long as you and they are healthy, I don't care how huge they get," smiled Randy. Turning to Pauline, he stated softly, "Pauline, if you wish to join the entertainment downstairs, I can read to her for a while."

Pauline shook her head, "No, thank you, Randy."

"I plan on staying here anyway," he continued.

"No," replied Pauline. "I think that if Heather does not need me, I will just go and get another volume from the library and read in bed."

"Why not go and join the dancing, Pauline?" asked Heather. "I will be fine..."

Pauline looked down at her hands, "Without you there, I will have no one to talk too. No, I will go and read. Besides, we must leave early tomorrow to go to Angelrod, you promised the Prince that you would go and we should all get some rest."

Heather shook her head, "I feel awful, Pauline. I keep you from having any sort of fun..."

Pauline reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, "I enjoy your company, Heather, especially when you are feeling well enough to eat. No, I'll go and read, thank you. I will see you both in the morning."

"Thank you, Pauline," said Randy softly.

"Good night, Pauline," said Heather gently.

"Good night to you both," replied Pauline as she made her way out into the hallway and headed down to the library.

A night of reading would be preferable to a night of standing and watching people dance, she thought. When you were lost in a book, you did not have to be anything that you did not wish to be.

Chapter 21

Albert stood near the door, whispering anxiously as Jonathan finished packing.

"You are certain that you do not mind if Edward joins your group?" he asked.

"I am positive," laughed Jonathan. "I understand that if I request her permission and it is granted that you would like to know as soon as possible. Edward is discrete and I am pleased to have him along, he is a good friend."

Albert could not contain the excitement from reaching his voice, "So you think it may happen?"

Jonathan broke into a wide grin, "Albert, you will be the second person to know, I promise you. Caroline will be the first..."

"Very well," smiled Albert, "I can ask for nothing more. Whatever you decide Jonathan, I ask you only not to worry about it. Even if the lady is NOT the one, there are many other young ladies for you to choose from. I have heard that the Princess Telina of Nordia is quite lovely..."

Jonathan frowned, "I am afraid I can only consider courting one lady at a time, Albert, I hope that does not disappoint you..."

Albert laughed, "You must forgive my enthusiasm. A royal marriage makes diplomatic work so much easier, it all becomes a family affair."

Jonathan looked at him, his eyes narrowing in thought.

"I do not mind marrying a woman who is a princess because I love her..." he began.

"Of course, Jonathan, of course," replied Albert hurriedly. "I am joking, you cannot take me seriously. I am excited for you, that is all, I would never ask you to consider marrying for diplomatic reasons..."

"But Father," replied Jonathan thoughtfully.

Albert took Jonathan by the shoulders and stated calmly, "What happened to your father was completely different, Jonathan, completely different. We were trying to end a war and prevent a future one and you see how well it all worked out...well, between your mother and father things worked out beautifully, but on the diplomatic front, not so good. I do not want you to think of such things, just go and enjoy and come back with the lady's permission, if that is what you are seeking of course..."

Jonathan smiled, "Thank you Albert, I will do my best."

***

Annalisse seemed quiet at breakfast, a fact that her mother and Stasha, her two companions this morning, could not help but notice.

"So, are you going to miss your brother?" asked Stasha quietly, pouring some tea for the three of them.

"Oh?" asked Annalisse. "Oh, yes, yes of course. He invited me to go, but I thought it better if I stayed here. I know Jonathan wanted to have a more informal time with her and too many titles would make that difficult..."

"Well, I hope that things go the way Jonathan wants them to go," stated Marie. "He seemed rather hopeful this morning. If it were not for the Gronolo delegation being here, I might have tried to sneak off to Angelrod myself..."

"Daddy is meeting with the Earl today," mused Annalisse thoughtfully. "What do you think of their hopes for a treaty? Is Daddy in favor of the idea?"

"What can the Duke of Gronolo offer your father is what I wonder," stated Stasha. "It seems he wants us to protect him but he does not offer much in the bargain..."

"The strong should protect the weak," stated Annalisse softly. "Besides, Gronolo has always been our friend..."

"Sarah has always been your friend, but I don't think you would step in if Lady Heather decided to give her a piece of her mind," laughed Stasha.

"I am less afraid of Darma than I am of Lady Heather," admitted Annalisse.

"Especially in her present condition," laughed Marie. "The poor thing; I cannot believe she is going with your brother to Angelrod. I do not think she has eaten half a piece of bread since she has come to visit."

"What do you think Daddy will say to the Earl when they meet?" asked Annalisse softly.

Marie smiled at her gently.

"He is going to listen to the Earl and then he will speak to the ambassador of Darma once again," stated Marie. "After that, he plans on calling a meeting of his council to obtain opinions." Marie leaned closer, "You seem very interested in the progress of the Gronolian's, my dear. Why this sudden interest?"

Annalisse blushed and looked at her hands, "I am just curious, Mama, that is all..."

"He's a fine looking fellow," stated Stasha as she poured herself some more tea. "And he speaks wonderfully. I've heard that he is the youngest special ambassador from any country and that the Duke of Gronolo considers him his most intelligent counselor."

"His resume is most impressive," agreed Marie. "What do you say, Annalisse?"

Annalisse glanced at the two of them, "He is very handsome and he speaks well..."

"If I heard him correctly, he was most taken with you when he met you," stated Marie casually.

"He is most complimentary," replied Annalisse.

"Perhaps he is just telling the truth," stated Stasha as she sipped her tea thoughtfully. "Many of the young men compliment you..."

Annalisse smiled, "I believe people believe that they must be kind to me because I am the King's daughter, that is all..."

"Perhaps some men just appreciate a beautiful young woman when they see her," stated Stasha.

"You must not forget, Stasha, that he is a diplomat," countered Annalisse. "No matter how beautifully he speaks, it is difficult to know why he says such beautiful things..."

"Even diplomats occasionally tell the truth," replied Stasha with a chuckle. "When I met Albert, he was quite the talker, but somehow, when he spoke to me, I knew it was different."

Marie laughed, "Your father is not much of a talker, but there are times he speaks beautifully when he speaks to me alone. I do not know if it is because the words are so well chosen or because I know that what he says is so heartfelt, but either way it is most impressive..."

"Daddy is no diplomat," giggled Annalisse. "He just loves you more than life itself."

"Who needs a diplomat when you have that?" smiled Stasha. "As long as you are in love, everything they say is poetry..."

Annalisse joined the giggling, but she felt a warmth in her heart she had not known before...

***

Ragar looked down at the bed and examined his work with a critical eye. It was best to leave nothing to chance; he had no quarrel with her, but he could not risk being found out. A word, a description and who knows who would be looking for him? No, after obtaining the information he needed, he had to make sure that there were no ties, no connections. He looked at the girl's crumpled body on the bed, thinking of the final moments of the struggle. Why was it so difficult to smother someone? Why did they have to fight so hard? She had to know he was much stronger than she was and yet she seemed to have struggled forever.

Looking down at her face, he saw the surprised look in her faded, unlit eyes, the slackness of her jaw, the way her hair sprawled about her head. She had not been unpleasant to look at, certainly, but he could not take the chance, no, he had to protect his line of information, it would have been foolish to have let her live. Glancing about the room, he gathered his cloak, the only thing he had brought with him and slid out the door of her room. Gingerly making his way down the backstairs of the house, he slid out the back door and found himself out in the cold. He would retrieve his bag at the inn and be gone before daybreak. It would be hours before she was found and by then, no one would recall him clearly.

The names the girl had given him astounded him, but he was certain that she was sincere about what had happened and what she had seen. He would need to ingrate himself to certain people, but if even half of what she said was true, he could make it work for his master, the Duke of Rectra. Especially if what she had said about money was true...he smiled. Yes, the way seemed most promising, most promising...

Chapter 22

Parker crumpled the piece of paper up and threw it violently towards the fireplace in his study. Grabbing a piece of parchment, he retrieved a quill and began to write to his former father in law, cursing beneath his breath as he did so.

Dearest Count,

I ask you to speak to no one regarding a loan on my behalf. I asked you for assistance due to our familial connection and would never dream of seeking assistance from anyone else. I will thank you to keep other people out of my affairs.

Parker

After Parker let out a harsh cry, the messenger who had brought him the Count's missive reappeared in his study. Parker rolled the parchment and affixed his seal to it.

"Bring this at once to the Count Bartran and allow NOTHING to delay you, do you understand?" asked Parker.

"Indeed, milord, I understand," stated the man, bowing and removing himself as quickly from Parker's sight as possible.

Parker sat upon his chair and moaned, his anger broiling within him.

"I will need to sell something," he muttered, "something Susan will not miss."

Glancing about the room, he saw nothing present that would fit his need. He knew that Susan had eyes like a hawk and that she would note anything that had gone missing, anything at all. A knock at the door caused him to start.

"What?" he snapped angrily.

The door opened and a man entered, a weathered looking older man with a drooping mustache and large, brown eyes. His clothing seemed as weather beaten as his hangdog expression and he bowed to Parker shyly and painfully.

"Begging your pardon, milord," stated the man. "I just come to give you the money I owe you..."

"Owe me?" asked Parker, certain that someone somewhere was mocking him.

"Her ladyship, she told me to remove some of the old furnishings, gave them to me at a good price," grinned the man happily. "Cost me four golds, but it was worth it for the lot. Her ladyship, she's not in, so I come to give you the money..."

Parker held out his hand and watched as the elderly man slowly counted out four gold coins and placed them into his palm.

"Who are you and what old furnishings did she give to you?" asked Parker.

"My names Bart, milord, I buy and sell old furniture, paintings, all sorts of things. Her ladyship, she sold me some old furniture and paintings, things she found in your attic," stated the old man.

"Is there anymore up there?" asked Parker, this information a total surprise to him.

"Oh there was plenty more," replied Bart with a wistful glance towards the ceiling. "She said maybe in the future, I could look at some more, but she didn't have time for the man to show it to me..."

"The man?" asked Parker.

"The gardener, Phipps, I think his name is," stated Bart, gesturing behind him as if to indicate the great outdoors. "Her ladyship said for him to show me things, but she wanted me gone before she returned and I could only take so much in so little time..."

Parker rose and looked at the man, his eyes hard.

"Show me where you took the things from..."

The man bowed and walked slowly through the door, leading Parker up the stairs, up past the servant's quarters and up to several attic rooms that were heaped high with furniture, paintings, statues and other items. Parker glanced at the assembled items, a slow realization washing over him. Most of these possessions had been purchased by Gertrude, had been lovingly selected by her to provide him with a home, a comfortable, love filled home. Susan had banished much of it to these store rooms and had allowed him to forget about them, out of sight, out of mind. He glanced back over the chairs, the tapestries, the carpets. He remembered Gertrude's delight in showing them to him, her happiness at securing them at a bargain price, her fine eye for detail, her flair, her loving happiness. She had called it "nesting"; she was creating a nest for them, a safe haven, a secure and beautiful place for them to live their lives together. An overwhelming feeling of loss and pain almost overpowered him and he lowered himself into one of the chairs. The man looked at him sympathetically, as if reading his thoughts, but he remained silent as he saw the struggle raging in Parker's soul.

There was Jacob's bassinet, the bed they had shared on their wedding night, statues that Gertrude had placed in the garden, painting she had decorated their home with, vases, sofas...Turning he saw a music box he had given her and upon opening it, he heard the quiet tinkling of music, a golden disc inscribed with their wedding date turning slowly in the middle of it until the mechanism wound down and the room was once again filled with silence. It was all here, all the reminders of that golden time in his life, of the time when love and family had meant everything. Parker stared at it and his eyes narrowed.

He would not be weak now, he would not remember. Those times were gone, never to return. These things, like the clean snow, mocked him and he would see them for what they were; lifeless reminders of a time now dead. He stared a moment more through hardened eyes with a hardened heart at the many things that love had chosen for him.

Turning to the man, his face became set like stone.

"What will you give me for all of this?" he asked.

Bart forced a smile. He had spoken to Susan, had spoken to the people in the village, had spoken to some of the women and now this...he would have much to tell Lord Ernest.

***

The king had sent him to provide security for the Prince, but after getting Jonathan and his party safely to Angelrod, Brogdan had requested permission to take a short detour to another part of the estate. With Jonathan's blessing, he made his way to a massive hedge that divided a smaller property from the main flow of the Prince's gardens. Beyond the hedge, a tall stone wall stood and in the center of the wall, a large wooden gate affixed to stone pillars. Reaching to the ring attached to the belt at his waist, Brogdan found the proper key and unlocked the gate, opening it and sliding into a small, well marked out garden. It was far too cold for anything to be growing presently and a light snow had made the entire garden a white blanket, divided by pathways and low stone enclosures.

Making his way up the main pathway, he found the back door of a modest, well kept home and knocked gingerly upon it. He heard footsteps beyond the door and then it opened slightly.

Before him a woman with dark hair and beautiful eyes peered out at him, her face breaking into a wide smile at the sight of him. The smile on one side of her face was halted by two large scars that descended from just beside her eye to just below her mouth. To Brogdan the scars did not detract in any way from her beauty. Suddenly, he appeared bashful and tongue tied.

"Tara," he said softly, as if the word were the beginning of a prayer.

"Brogdan," she replied in the same tone, gesturing shyly for him to enter.

Ducking beneath the portal, he made his way into her kitchen, glancing at the fireplace, the smell of a meal being prepared filling the air.

"Will you stay and eat with me?" she asked.

"I would love to," he replied, glancing about to make sure no one was near and then leaning down and kissing her gingerly on the lips.

She smiled and drew him into her arms, holding him close, her eyes closed, the cold of his clothing contrasting with the warmth of his large hands upon her back.

"I have missed you," he stated sincerely. "Are you well?"

"Never better," she replied, releasing him and smiling up into his dark eyes. "And you?"

"I'm never better than when I am with you," he replied.

Tara gestured him towards a chair and checked upon her meal before returning and joining him at the table.

"Is the Prince in residence?" she asked casually.

"He is," replied Brogdan. "He is entertaining the Princess of Albria, the Princess Caroline. People think that they may begin courting soon..."

Tara frowned, "I pity her, having to look at that face..."

Brogdan said nothing. Jonathan had been admired since his teenage years for his looks, but Tara only saw his father's face whenever she looked at him, the face of the man who had raped her and scarred her. While she appreciated Jonathan's generosity, she could not reconcile herself to his appearance, a fact that Jonathan respected. He never made any attempt to visit her and when he was at his own home, he always asked Brogdan to make certain that Tara and he would not meet.

"That is her problem," he stated finally. "I was hoping that there was a face that you might enjoy seeing more often..."

Tara looked up at him and her expression softened, "I am sorry, my love, I did not mean to bring up a painful subject for either of us. You know that I would enjoy seeing you more often..."

"Have you reconsidered my offer?" he asked.

Tara forced a smiled, "I have, Brogdan and I am sorry. I am still not ready..."

"Not ready?" asked Brogdan, his voice rising in hope.

She looked at him, "I have no desire to mislead you. I love you, you must know that...as much as I am capable of loving another..." She stared down at the floor a moment, her emotions warring inside of her, "If I were to have a husband I would want it to be you...I am not ready for that, Brogdan..."

"But you are not against me," he said, unable to hide his excitement.

"I could never be against you or my own happiness," she replied as he jumped up and swept her up into his arms. He kissed her passionately, "I am not sure I will ever be ready..."

"I will wait, Tara," he stated firmly. "I will wait until they cover me in the grave and I will wait there as well. I love you and I want no other..."

"It is not fair to you..." she began but he interrupted her with a kiss.

"You may never be ready, I understand," he whispered to her hurriedly. "I will never want another, my love. I will wait, if I wait for eternity, I will wait..."

***

Jonathan spurred Gold Pillar towards the village. With his guests relaxing in their rooms after their journey and the staff preparing for the midday meal, he decided to take a quick trip into the village to check on a horse that he was interested in purchasing. The trip was an excuse, a reason to step away and regain his balance. Caroline seemed to enjoy the journey just as much as he did and by the time they had arrived at Angelrod, he was certain that his friends were her friends. Everyone seemed so happy and pleased with her and she with them that it made him feel as if he were being foolish, and yet he still felt compelled to delay. Something nagged at him and he needed a short time to get away and assess his feelings.

As he cantered down the main lane that led to the village, his thoughts of Princess Caroline were interrupted by the appearance of a woman walking a good distance in front of him. Something about her, even from this distance, seemed familiar and as he drew closer he came to realize that it was the Lady Pauline walking towards the village of Angelrod.

Closing the distance between them, Jonathan was about to hail her when, at the edge of the village, a group of young children sudden appeared from nowhere and surged towards Pauline, surrounding her. The group consisted of about twelve children ranging from ages six to about eight or nine and they quickly engulfed her, screaming and shouting excitedly and pointing off to the right.

Drawing closer, Jonathan dismounted and began to walk towards the group, uncertain of why they had stopped Pauline. They all seemed to be very excited and trying to draw Pauline's attention to something off of the road. With a word from Pauline, they seemed to settle down and then all of them together began to walk in the direction from which they had appeared.

The main road into town was surrounded at this point by a stone fence that ended at the first cross street and Jonathan brought himself and his horse to a stop at the corner of the wall, hidden beneath the shade of a tree from the sight of anyone in the area where the children had brought Pauline. From his vantage point, he peered over the wall and listened to the conversation taking place.

"He's a killer," stated one little boy. "He's always barking and trying to get loose to get at us..."

"Have you spoken to his owner?" asked Pauline gently as they moved slowly along.

"That man's mean," stated one of the younger girls. "He yells all the time, just like his dog..."

"Well, it seems to me that it would be best to speak to the owner about the dog," stated Pauline, her soft voice seeming to sooth the children and calm them. "It is not good for you to all go running out into the street as you did when I came by. What would have happened to you if a coach were coming by at that moment instead of me? It would not have been able to stop and you would have been trampled and we cannot have that. Come, show me where the dog is and where we can find the owner and I will speak to him."

The children drew closer to the first home at the edge of the street, a large, stucco house with dark beams and a thatched roof. The ground floor appeared to be a type of business and the upper floor, perhaps living quarters or even storage. Pauline made her way towards the door, the children trailing behind her. As she got within about ten feet of the doorway an enormous dog bound out of the door and thundered towards her. It was truly massive with thick hair and an enormous head filled with large teeth.

Its appearance was so quick and so unexpected that none of them, the children, Pauline or Jonathan had a chance to react as the huge creature rushed to within a foot of Pauline before finding itself half strangled at the end of a heavy chain. Jerked back by the chain, the dog seemed to grow even larger as it barked furiously at Pauline.

While surprised, Pauline held her ground and after overcoming her initial shock, she glanced back at the children who stood frozen in terror. Clapping her hands, Pauline spoke loudly to the dog.

"Do be quiet!" she said. The dog barked a few more times and then cocked its head at her as she stood, unmoved. Her attitude seemed to completely perplex the dog. "What are you on about? Stop that barking this instant! How dare you frighten these children! Now sit!" With the final words, she thrust out her hand and pointed downwards and to everyone's surprise, including her own, the dog sat.

Suddenly a loud voice erupted in the doorway as a huge, fat man with a bald head came roaring out of the building. He was dressed in stained pants and a leather apron and covered in sweat as he stormed out into the street, his red face angry and his voice harsh. In the cold air, steam rose from his naked arms and the top of his bald head.

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WHAT IN THE HELL..."

The man slowed and then stopped, glancing first at the dog and then at Pauline and then back at the dog. Finally, looking back at Pauline, he wiped his beefy hands upon his apron and swallowed hard.

"Begging you pardon, milady," he said politely. "Forgive me language, it's this damn dog. He barks all the time; it's enough to drive you mad..." The man walked up beside the dog and patted him heavily upon the head.

"Do you know that he scares the children when he barks?" asked Pauline firmly. "He frightened them so that they ran out into the street without looking, they could have been hurt."

"I'm sorry miss, I had no idea," replied the man. "He barks so much and I can't keep an eye on him all day to see what he's barking at, as I've said, it's enough to drive you mad." Peering past Pauline, he looked at the children who looked at him with fear and suspicion. "Are you afraid of him?"

"He wants to bite us," stated one small girl, the others murmuring their agreement.

"Bite you?" the man asked and then broke into a fit of laughter. "Him? He'll as soon lick you to death as bite you. Worst watch dog ever born, this one. He's a pup, all he wants to do is play..."

"He's a rather fierce looking pup," stated Pauline, the children crowding in behind her.

"Oh, he looks fierce but I assure you, he just wants to play," laughed the man. "I can't play with him all day, I got work to do. He's big, I grant you, but he's playful. Here, I'll show you..."

Grabbing the massive chain around the dog's neck, the man swiftly unhooked it and before anyone could say anything, the dog immediately stood up and placed his enormous paws upon Pauline's slender shoulders. With his massive muzzle inches from her face, Pauline seemed very small indeed, but again she did not flinch, instead, patting the dog's head. The dog seemed delighted and placed his head upon the shoulder of her heavy wool traveling cloak.

"What are you doing?" snapped the man at the dog, grabbing the chain around his neck and pulling him off of Pauline. "This here's a lady, you don't jump on a lady! Get down!"

The dog instantly obeyed and sat happily at Pauline's feet as the man apologized profusely.

"I'm sorry, milady, he's a pup, don't know his manners," stated the man, turning to the dog and ordering him, "Stay down. Now see, he doesn't mean any harm, he's just large and clumsy." Looking at one of the small girls he smiled, "Do you want to pet him?"

"Will he eat me?" she asked suspiciously.

"No, I promise you he won't," laughed the man.

The little girl looked at Pauline, who was busy wiping the dirt from the puppy's feet off of her shoulder.

"You pet him first; he listens to you."

Pauline nodded and leaning down pet the dog on his back.

"You should pet him," she advised, "As mean as he looks, he's very soft..."

The children slowly gathered around the dog, tentatively petting him and finding it pleasant. The dog rolled upon its back and invited them to pet his belly, a fact that amused them.

"He's not mean, he's a big baby," laughed one of the boys.

"He's big alright," laughed the man. "All he wants to do is play, I told you..."

"Maybe if we play with him, he won't bark so much," suggested one of the other boys.

"Well, if you'd like, I'll let you play with him, but you have to stay in my yard and don't take him out. You can't run him in the street because he starts chasing things and he's already too big for a leash. Then he runs away and he's a devil to catch..."

The children looked at Pauline for her approval.

"You should ask your parent's permission to play with him. Where are your parents?" she asked.

"Mine are at the other end of the block," offered one of the boys. "They're working..."

The others gave similar answers as Pauline listened patiently.

"Well, go and ask them if you have their permission," stated Pauline. "Hurry back and let this gentleman know what they say, he cannot wait all day to find out you know, he has work to do. Now go on, go ahead..."

The children ran off in several directions excitedly speaking about the dog.

Turning back to the owner, Pauline patted the dog on his head.

"Could you please tell me where the market is?" she asked the large man pleasantly. "I am in search of some lemons for my friend."

"Lemons?" asked the man, scratching his head. "The market is down the main road, milady and off to the right, you can't miss it, but I doubt you'll find any lemons this time of year..."

Pauline offered him a slight smile, "Well, I will go and see anyway..."

With a polite nod, she head back towards the main road, the large dog taking a step after her until his master called him back. Jonathan stepped back against the wall and watched as she made her way past his hiding place and then down the street, seeking the market. He could not contain his smile as he watched her.

Remounting his horse, he stroked its mane gently, "I don't know a knight who would have stood before that dog and not flinched the way she did. She's the bravest woman I have ever seen..."

With a gentle flick of his reins, he directed the horse down the main street and towards the livery, smiling to himself, unable to completely contain his admiration for what he had just witnessed.

Chapter 23

"Look at him," snapped the old woman, "just look at him!"

Bart looked at the young boy and shrugged, "I've got no idea of what I'm looking for..."

"That's his father over there," sneered the old woman, "the fat one with the dark hair..."

The man peered at the fellow in the yard and shook his head, "He's a big man..."

"Big fat swine," snapped the old woman. "My son, stupid cow...The Lord Parker rides up one day and says, "Here, you should be married," and the next thing you know this lovely young creature is here, paying him attention like he's something to look at."

"Not every woman is concerned with looks," began the man.

"By the dragon's tail," snapped the old woman angrily. "Are you really such a fool? My son has no job, no prospects, no ambition for a family or anything else and suddenly, he's working at the garden up at the manor and he's got a fine wife and a beautiful baby boy. Look at the boy, just look at him!"

Bart stared at the youth, he was a finely built lad with blonde hair and light eyes, straight and tall and handsome.

"Resembles his father about as much as a cow does a chicken," laughed Bart.

"Cause he ain't his father," spat the woman. "Won't convince me that he had anything to do with the making of that youngster..."

"What of his mother?" asked Bart. "You said that she was a fine looking woman..."

"With hair darker than my sons and eyes black as coal," she interrupted. "Met her brother and her sister, all dark, all dark as night, just like us and then, out comes this light eyed, light haired child. I love him, he's my grandson, but he's not my son's son and I'll never believe it as long as I live. Besides, he comes and visits when my son's not home. I've seen him, prancing in the back door while my son is out tending his garden. He's tending my SON'S garden, I can tell you that! Everyone in the neighborhood knows it, save me son of course..."

Bart frowned, "Why not say something to your boy?"

"What can I say? Tell him he's a cuckold and break his heart?" sniffled the old woman miserably. "He loves her, or at least he thinks he does, damn fool. All I can do is sit and pray, pray he doesn't find out, pray that he never finds out..."

Bart turned and shook his head.

"I'll pray for you," he said softly. "Trust in God..."

"Aye," she replied. "Good day to you..."

Giving her a sad smile, he mounted his cart, gave the reins a quick flick and set off out of the village. She had been the fourth woman he had spoken to today. If even half of the rumors were to be believed, the Lord Parker had at least five children outside of his marriage with more on the way. The stories were always the same, the women of the village pointing out the numerous women who had married common, simple men and had children more quickly than in the prescribed time.

He had seen some of the households, the items that they should not have been able to afford on display in their rooms, everything a bit nicer than one would expect. It was not proof, he reminded himself as he drew away from the village. No, one could not prove the Lord Parker was spending his money on hiding infidelities, but what else was he spending money on?

It was true that the Lady Susan had redone the manor in an expensive style, but as far as he could tell, it should not have caused the need for loans on the scale that the Lord Parker was looking for them. There were no signs of gambling debts or poor investments. All of his businesses seemed to be flourishing, but even there, certain things seemed out of place. He had sold a number of businesses to his partners, taking cash for ventures that would have produced income for many years to come. The timing again could not be proven, but it seemed every urgent transaction was connected with the wedding of one of the women who were under suspicion of being his mistress. Bart shook his head; he would try to be as objective as possible when he met with Prince Ernest, but there was no way he could hide his conclusions, not even from himself.

***

The King's Counsel Chamber was a large and impressive stone room with enormous windows. The light shone through the windows upon a loud, quarreling group of men. The lords sat opposite one another, one group on the left, one on the right. Each side had four rows of chairs set facing across the room opposite their counterparts on the other side, each row on gradually stepped levels. As a man rose to speak, he could address all of his colleagues, the men behind him seeing his back while the rest of the chamber could watch him in full view. The argument today was a warm one and the men were all anxious to have their say.

"I don't agree, milord," thundered Duke Tremont. "We gain nothing, absolutely nothing by a treaty with Gronolo! Our merchants are enjoying profits there just as their merchants are enjoying profits here. We have never had a formal alliance with them, why do we need one now?"

"Situations change, milord," replied Lord Harrington, a distinguished, well dressed member of the council. "The treaty will give the Darmian's pause; that is all. We do not want their mongrel horde upon on borders and if we speak now, we may not have to fight later."

"I have fought the Darmians," stated Duke Tremont. Tremont was the King's Lord Admiral. "They are a fierce people, but we have conquered before and we would conquer again! Besides, we share a border with them because of our acquisition of Vesek..."

"I have no doubt that we would win a war with them," stated Lord Albert as the men in the chamber murmured their approval of the Duke's words. "As to the shared border you speak of, there is no pass that could accommodate an invading army, it can be closed with a force of ten men! War is not the only consideration, gentlemen. Frankly, I cannot help but ask, are we never to have peace? Look at the prosperity of the kingdom. Think of your wives; do you wish to tell them that their sons are not returning home because they have been sacrificed in a preventable war?"

"I beg your pardon, Lord Albert," stated the Duke of Eisling. "I know you understand the consequences of this action better than most, but you cannot deny that by siding with the Gronolians, we might be drawing ourselves into a conflict instead of avoiding one."

"Milord, do you think our actions will entice the Darmians to battle?" asked Albert. "I do not believe they would chance it, but that is my belief. I understand certainly that the best laid plans can turn go astray, even become the cause of a national nightmare...but are we to avoid logic? Let us look at this sensibly; the Gronolian's have come asking for our assistance and since their arrival I have met with the ambassador of Darma four times. He has made it clear at each interview that the Darmians have no desire for war with us, but it is just as obvious to me that they DO desire to conquer and control Gronolo and they want to do so without the worry of Zambelia interfering. They want free reign, gentleman and I cannot help but think that if we stop them here, now, then we will diffuse the situation, or at the very least, force them onto a different track. Stand back and do nothing now and they will see us as weak and act accordingly. Make a treaty with the Gronolians and they will step back from taking this action and now that we are watching them, perhaps they will seek other means to satisfy their goals."

"I am sorry, milord, but there are no guarantees," stated Duke Tremont. "What if we sign the treaty and they attack? Then we are honor bound to defend our allies, fighting a war that has no advantage for us and in which our sons will be killed. What do we say to our wives then, Lord Albert?"

Albert shook his head, "Either pathway represents a risk. Our job, gentlemen, is to advise the King as to his best options. We need a consensus. Frankly, I know that every man here will do his duty if the worse happens, of that I am never afraid. My fear is yours, that if we act wrongly and convince our King to act wrongly, then we have forced ourselves into a situation that we might have avoided. We are talking in circles, milords..." Albert gestured vaguely with his hand, "I believe that we should set a vote and then, whatever the consensus, present our case to his royal highness..."

***

Ragar sat upon his saddle, his eyes shifting nervously as he did his best not to stare at the guard. The guard was a large man with a heavy face and a no-nonsense expression. He glanced at the traveler again and then ordered him to dismount.

Ragar tried to hide his frown, dismounting and slowly making his way with the guard to a hut that stood on the side of the mountain pass. Entering the hut, he watched as the guard sat down heavily. Glancing around him, he noted that there were several other guards standing about, some getting ready to go on duty, others apparently getting ready to return to their barracks.

"Sorry to detain you," said the guard heavily. "Have to check your papers, orders, you see..."

The guard wasted another ten minutes reading and rereading the papers the traveler had handed him and then finally returned them to him. Ragar smiled as he placed the papers back in his inner cloak pocket and then, making his way back into the daylight, mounted his horse and was on his way again.

After about a mile, he found himself nearing a cross roads where an elderly man on a small donkey was meandering along. The old man had a bald head and a fringe of white hair and a white beard. He seemed harmless and docile and he hailed Ragar as he drew closer.

"Hello, my good man," he called out cheerfully. "I wonder, do you know the road that leads to Wharton?"

The traveler looked at him and frowned, "You're on the road that leads to Wharton...eventually. You won't be seeing it for a week or more and from the looks of that donkey, I'll bet on "or more"..."

The old man laughed and looked him over casually, "You wouldn't happen to be going in that direction, would you?"

Ragar smiled, "I'm going south of there, but I'm taking the road through Wharton."

"Perhaps you would not mind some company," smiled the old man. "I'm pleasant enough to talk too and I can sing a little, but most of all, I have the most wonderful tonic in my saddle bag. Two whole bottles of it, does a man good, especially on a chilly night."

Ragar's smile grew, "It's a tad chilly right now, don't you think?"

The old man smiled and reached into his saddle bag, pulling forth a bottle. Pulling the cork from it with his teeth, he handed it to his companion with a flourish. Ragar smiled and took a long draught of the bottle. Strange, it did not burn going down his throat, but it was a delightful beverage, both sweet and refreshing and he smiled as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"What is this called?" he asked.

"Do you like it?" asked the old man.

"Very much so..."

"It is called Sorbitionis, but where I am from," smiled the old man, "we call it "Heaven's Brew"."

"It is delightful," smiled Ragar, "quite delightful."

The old man watched him smile and then his eyes close as he slid from his saddled to the ground beside his horse. Climbing down from his donkey, he looked at the traveler sleeping peacefully upon the ground. Standing upright, the old man looked up and down the road and saw no other people.

"We must act quickly," he stated to his donkey.

Waving his hand, he looked at the donkey as it morphed into a large gorilla.

The old man smiled, "Well, pick him up and put him on the horse and then we must be on our way. Hurry now, hurry..."

The gorilla lifted the man easily and placed him over the neck of his horse, jumping up onto the horse's back and then reaching out to pick up the old man and place him on the saddle. The old man straightened his clothes and smiled. I cannot tamper with events directly, he thought, but I promised to do all that I can.

Chapter 24

The day had been successful beyond Jonathan's wildest expectations. Caroline had fit in beautifully with his friends, laughing and relaxing and becoming part of the group almost instantly. He had enjoyed showing her his estate and she seemed to take a true interest in everything and everyone. More than once, he had caught her looking at him in a special way.

Dinner had been exquisite, the food and wine excellent, the conversations sparkling and witty. Edward had been a fantastic addition to the conversation, he was intelligent, wise and full of fun and Jonathan had gotten to enjoy him as a friend instead of as a counselor for perhaps the first time since they had known each other. All of his friends had done their best to make Caroline feel welcome and she in turn could not have been more gracious or fun. It was an evening to remember.

After dinner, dancers and acrobats had kept them entertained and then, dessert and other refreshments had been served in the ballroom. It had been the perfect evening and he believed that tomorrow, he would ask Caroline to allow him the honor to court her.

As his friends had all wished him good night, each had a kind word to say about her and encouragement to offer him. Too wound up to sleep, Jonathan had retreated to his library and there, seated before a roaring fire, he recounted the entire evening over and over again. His doubts were gone, he would ask Caroline tomorrow.

As the fire grew lower, he eased back into his chair and watched the shadows grow longer and longer, casting fantastic shapes upon the walls. He might had nodded off, he was not certain, but he was positive that he had heard the library door open and then close quietly. At first he thought he must have imagined it, for he heard no one enter the room, but then suddenly, from the corner of his eye, he saw a figure appear and make its way towards the bookcases. The figure was in a long, worn, green velvet robe and held a candle in a candleholder. Stealthily, it made its way towards the bookcases and then stood with the candle held high, looking for a long time at the titles on the book bindings.

Reaching for books, the figure placed the candleholder on a nearby table and gingerly removed several volumes before regaining the candle holder and making their way towards the fireplace. Gently, the figure blew out the candle as they were facing away from him and towards the fire and then, ever so graciously, they lowered themselves upon the carpet before the fire and placed the books almost reverently upon the carpet beside them.

It was not until she had lowered herself onto the carpet, that Jonathan realized the intruder was Lady Pauline. He remembered telling her earlier that she was more than welcome to use his library and now he watched her, slowly becoming fascinated by her movement and her actions. Her hair was loose and fell softly around her face, which was partially hidden by shadow that would occasionally give way to the light of the fireplace when it grew stronger or shifted along the logs. Her large eyes seemed to glow and her skin looked pale and clear, her cheeks rosy and soft.

For once, she did not seem shy or reserved, but as she looked at the books, she seemed happy and excited, as if she were a child who had too many toys and could not decide with which one to play. He smiled at her obvious delight, enchanted by how pretty she looked and with the happiness that she radiated as she finally picked up a volume and opened it.

Jonathan could not help but stare at her as she gingerly turned the pages, watching her expressions change from curiosity to delight, to recognition and then uncertainty. He was entranced by the way her lips moved ever so slightly as she was reading. Her hair seemed to float down occasionally towards her face and he noted the graceful, unconscious way she combed the stray locks back behind her ear.

The thought struck him that she was like a wood fairy or a nymph, captured in the glow of the fire, so unconscious of everything but the words she was reading and the places they were taking her. He could not say how long he had been watching her when his actions made her aware of him.

Without thinking, he eased forward slightly in his chair, his slight movement breaking the spell and alerting her to his presence. Glancing at the chair for the first time, she uttered a little cry of surprise and sprang to her feet so quickly that Jonathan had no idea of how she had managed to rise from the floor despite the fact he had been looking at her when she had done it. It did not seem possible to have arisen that quickly from the reclined position she had been in and her action startled him into jumping to his feet.

"Milord," she hissed in surprise, her eyes wide, her face a dark, embarrassed red.

"I am sorry, milady," he stuttered, "I apologize..." He could not tell her that he was watching her, especially in the embarrassed and excited state that she was in. "I must have nodded off in my chair, milady... I did not hear you enter and then, when I awoke, I startled you. Please, forgive me, I do apologize..."

Pauline stared at the ground, her mind in a whirl. What must he think of her, wrapped in an old robe, reading books in the middle of the night...

"I am so sorry, your royal highness," she whispered, embarrassed and on the verge of tears. "I had no idea anyone was here. I was unable to sleep and you had so kindly said that I might look at your books that I thought I would annoy no one..."

"Lady Pauline, you have annoyed no one," laughed Jonathan, feeling awful about having frightened her. "Please, my dear lady, please, I am the one who should apologize...I frightened you and I am truly sorry..."

She glanced at him and then down at her robe. What must he think? She wanted to crawl into a hole and cover herself.

Drawing closer, Jonathan smiled and peered at the volume in her hand, "Do you like Darius? He is one of my favorites..."

Pauline glanced down at the book and nodded, "I like his poetry very much, milord..."

"Which one were you reading?" he asked, trying to sound upbeat and casual. "Was it "The Evening Fire"? That is one of my favorites..."

Pauline shook her head, "No, milord. I do enjoy "The Evening Fire", but I was reading "His Hallowed Tree"..."

"Oh, that is an excellent one," smiled Jonathan, his enthusiasm contagious. "And above leafy arms, outstretch to sky and sun..."

"His prayers they rose and then abide, his course forever run..." finished Pauline, a small smile gracing her features.

"Who else do you like?" he asked, genuinely interested.

She stared at the ground, "For nature, I like Emlington best, but if it is something somber, I think Darius has no rival. Of course for humor, I love Lord Chester..."

"He is my favorite," laughed Jonathan. "I can read "Chasing My Hat" a thousand times and all I do is laugh..."

"He makes me laugh as well," she replied, glancing up at him and smiling.

Jonathan could not help but smile at her smile. It was crooked, going up higher on the left side than on the right and disappearing into a dimple. It gave her face such a childish, innocent beauty that he almost remarked upon it.

"Still, I love his more historical works as well," she stated. "Lord Chester is such a wonderful poet, I wish that he would write more..."

"He is such a busy fellow," replied Jonathan. "I do love his poetry and his essays are so insightful..."

"I enjoyed his essay on serving at court," she began.

"Yes, I read that," stated Jonathan. "He has such vision. He sees things no one else would even contemplate..."

"His understanding, the way he finds the most profound statements of God's love and life in simple everyday things..." she said thoughtfully. "I wish that I knew him better..."

"He is the most wonderful man," stated Jonathan. "So often you meet someone who is so brilliant and they are such a disappointment in person, but not him. He is the kindest, gentlest, funniest man...Perhaps when he returns from his work in Chanra I could introduce you to him."

"I would love to meet him, thank you, milord. I have seen him at court but have never actually met him. He seems so nice," said Pauline. "I have heard that Darius was not a pleasant man..."

"Perhaps that is why some of his poetry is so gloomy," reflected Jonathan.

For a moment the two stood facing each other, lost in their thoughts. Pauline broke the silence.

"I should be going to bed, milord," she stated softly. "I am terribly sorry that I invaded your privacy..."

"I am the one who is sorry, Lady Pauline," replied Jonathan wistfully. "I am most sorry that it is so late that instead of discussing poetry, I must allow you to go and get some rest."

Pauline's crooked smile returned.

"You are most gracious, milord. Thank you for a wonderful day..."

"Thank you, Lady Pauline..." he said softly.

He almost reached for her hand and then stopped himself, what was he thinking? With a smile, he bid her goodnight and watched as she slid gracefully out of the door and into the hallway beyond. He stood thinking of poetry for quite a while, of poetry and of how she had looked sitting by the fire, the joy on her face and how soft her hair appeared. With an effort he thought of Princess Caroline. Yes, yes, tomorrow would be the day.

***

Eva was not entirely pleased, but she did her best not to show it. Parker had invited another serving girl to join them and while she did not feel she could say no, she had other ways of making him react as she desired. By the end of the session, his complaining had driven the girl to tears and had allowed Eva to regain her dominance by "making it up" to him.

Now as he lay in her bed, she eyed him with a calculating air. Light had been shed on certain motives and ideas and while Eva could not know all of what the Lady Susan had planned, she was certain that she could see the outline of it. Susan's entire attitude, her entire being was pushing, pushing the Lord Parker towards a break with everything and everyone he cared about, that much was obvious. She was preparing him, Eva realized, she was leaving him no room to do anything but to follow a preset path and that path would lead...where? That was the only problem that she could not foresee, not clearly, not yet.

Eva knew women like Susan all too well. She was coldblooded, that one, she would never care about anything but her own wants. Glancing about the room, she smiled. Even the servant's quarters were richly furnished, she laughed. She wanted Parker coddled and soft. She would make him turn by weakening him and then dropping him into a harsh reality that would leave him desperate to return to his comforts, but what was in it for her?

"The only reason you get rid of a fortune is in pursuit of a larger fortune," she mumbled.

Parker had money, prestige, power, but for Susan it was not enough. He had titles, he had estates; what more could his wife desire? It was then that she realized it, it was then that the entire thing clicked and came together in her mind.

"She wants to be Queen," she whispered, her revelation frightening even her.

A wild thought filled Eva's mind; if Susan could make herself Queen, than she could certainly make ME Queen. Eva could not contain her smile. Glancing down at the slumbering Parker, she could barely contain her laughter. It was so much easier to win when you knew what game it was you were playing...

***

Alex sat and listened as two members of the King's Council spoke for the other members. Unable to reach a majority consensus, the council had decided to offer their differing views to Alex in order for him to make an informed decision. As the two men sat down, Alex nodded and said nothing. Finally, after some moments of silence, Albert rose and spoke.

"We apologize to you sire for not offering you a united suggestion," stated Albert. "The council, however, would be untrue to you and to itself if it claimed that it could find the harmony that is normal to our discussions."

"It is a difficult question, I agree, gentlemen," stated the King thoughtfully. "Still, the special envoys of the Duchy of Gronolo deserve an answer and I cannot help but think that the time has come for me to make that decision. Therefore, I will set a deadline for my own decision or I might argue amongst the two points of view forever. Albert, please inform the Earl that I wish him to attend her majesty and I in the morning, the day after tomorrow. I will at that time offer him my decision."

"As to you gentlemen," continued the King, "I will ask only that whatever the decision may be, that you do your best to support your country and your King. We cannot afford to be split asunder by internal dissent."

"Sire," stated the Duke of Tremont, "know that no matter your decision, there is not a man here who will not do his utmost to support you and Zambelia. Whatever the outcome, sire; we live to serve!"

The others in the chamber applauded the Duke and shouted their agreement. Alex smiled; it was nice to know that they would do their utmost to support him. The problem was, support him to do what?

Chapter 25

Edward Tralaine was a skilled diplomat and it was through both a natural ability to read people and the cultivation of a practiced eye, that he could more often than not know what was required by people, quite often, before they knew it themselves. At breakfast, he had been his usual witty and urbane self, but as he watched the Prince, he was certain that a monumental moment was approaching and it could not play out in front of the Prince's friends. No, there was a reason for privacy, even in royal circles, and Edward knew that what had to happen, had to happen in private.

Wilton provided him with the opportunity. In the middle of a story, he had offered a very funny critique of his ability to play the harp.

"Surely, your lordship is not that bad a player," stated Edward.

"Miserable," laughed Wilton. "They forced me to play the triangle in the Children's Orchestra and even then, I had no sense of what to do..."

"I have heard him, milord," laughed Lady Heather. "I can attest to the fact that the Lord Wilton has absolutely no ability with a harp."

"Might I hear you?" asked Edward.

"By the dragon's tail, Edward, why would you want to?" laughed Randy.

"His highness has a harp in his music room," stated Edward amicably. "Come, show me how bad you are; prove me wrong."

"He will make your ears sting, milord," stated Lady Ellen. "I have heard him on other instruments, he possesses no talent, I can assure you."

"Please," stated Edward, with a subtle glance at Jonathan and Caroline, both of whom had no interest in the conversation, "satisfy my curiosity."

Heather caught his meaning immediately, "Yes, Wilton, show us."

The others quickly took up the request, realizing what it was Edward was trying to do. It was only after they had risen that Jonathan and Caroline became aware that they were leaving, so entranced were they with each other. The group quickly withdrew, leaving the Prince and Princess alone.

Jonathan looked down at the table, it was now or never.

"Caroline," he began softly. "I wanted to tell you how wonderful it has been to have you as my guest. All of my friends are delighted to have met you; none of them can find enough kind words to express their happiness in having made your acquaintance..."

"They are a wonderful group, Jonathan," she smiled.

"It is not only them, Caroline," he said softly, drawing closer. "I too must admit that I have fallen under your spell. You are a beautiful, intelligent and delightful woman and I cannot think of a more pleasant companion..."

Caroline blushed, her feelings towards him growing. Could it really happen, she wondered, could she really give all of her dreams up for him? He was so kind and gentle, so handsome and so...

Jonathan drew closer and slowly embraced her. They stared into each other's eyes and then... he felt the warmth of her lips upon his, the softness of her skin, the perfume that wafted from her. She was warm and alive in his arms and he felt her wrap her arms about his neck as they kissed, felt the softness of her hair as it brushed against his face. They held the kiss for a moment more and then, each pulled shyly back from the other.

Jonathan offered her a brave smile, which she returned.

"That was...pleasant," she stated, looking down at her hands.

"Yes," he replied softly, "yes indeed."

Nothing; he had felt nothing. There were no bells or music or excitement, there was absolutely nothing. He glanced at her and could see it in her eyes, in her face, she had felt it too, or more accurately, had NOT felt it.

"Caroline," he said softly. Be brave, his mind screamed, you must be brave, for both of you! "Caroline," he began again, closing his eyes. "Caroline, this is not going to work, is it?"

She continued to stare at the table and for a moment, he thought he had offended her but then she spoke.

"Jonathan, you are a wonderful man and I hope that you find the woman you deserve, I truly do...I know that you wanted this to be special and you did such a wonderful job and your friends have been so kind and considerate but..." she shook her head. "Jonathan, I am sorry..."

"No more sorry than I am," he stated truthfully. "You are so beautiful..."

Caroline laughed, "You are the most handsome man I have ever set eyes upon..."

He looked up and saw the tears in her eyes and the two of them laughed.

"I am sorry Jonathan," she said, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. "It was like kissing my sister..."

Jonathan nodded, "I know...I know..."

Taking his hand into hers she looked at him, "Jonathan, we will always, ALWAYS, be friends, of that I have no doubt. Please never doubt my regard for you or my friendship."

"Nor mine for you," he replied, forcing a smile. "You will always be a special and important friend to me Caroline. I am sorry..."

"Don't be sorry," she replied, shaking her head. "It is better we know now, is it not? We could have been courting or married and then think of the embarrassment. No, Jonathan, thank you, thank you for trying and thank you for being honest. It is not meant to be. I have no wish to make you miserable..."

"Nor I you," replied Jonathan. "I pray that you will find a man worthy of you Caroline. You deserve the very best."

"Thank you Jonathan," she replied. With a tight smile, she glanced at him, "If you do not mind, I will go and prepare to leave. Please make my excuses to your friends. I will send a letter to your parents explaining that I appreciate all that they have done and that I had to leave for my country from here on a pretext..."

"I will explain the truth to them when I return to Wharton, Caroline," he said softly. "Thank you for your tact..."

Rising, she smiled down at him and then kissed him gently on the forehead. He smiled up at her as she swept from the room and down the hall.

In the background he could hear the harp making a noise as if it were being trampled by a mule and gales of laughter from his friends. Closing his eyes, he grit his teeth. How was he going to face his father? His mother? What would Albert say?

***

Albert stared at Ernest a moment before looking away, unable to hide the pain or disappointment he was feeling.

"We must tell the King," stated Albert finally. "We cannot keep this from him, but we cannot tell him now..."

"What about Bartran?" asked Ernest, as he ran his hands through his hair. "We cannot tell him this, Albert, we cannot... We must come up with some plausible reason for him that has nothing to do with this..."

"I do not know...Are you certain, Ernest? Are you sure there has been no mistake?" asked Albert, his voice pained.

He had helped to tutor Parker, had helped to instill in him ideas and ideals. How could he have failed so miserably and so completely?

"The facts offer no other reasonable conclusion," replied Ernest miserably. "He has made a mockery of his vows with a multitude. I have no love for the Lady Susan, but his actions..." he let the thought complete itself.

"We must keep Jacob from him," stated Albert. "He cannot return to his home with all of... of this going on."

"Alex must be told as soon as possible," stated Ernest. "As for Jacob, we can make excuses...I doubt at this point he truly cares about his son, well...this son anyway..."

"What of the other children?" asked Albert. "What of the women?"

"The women are all attractive but of the lowest character," stated Ernest. "My man was able to make certain inquiries...we are not certain yet as to their source but from what we have found out so far, the ones whose past we have been able to look into have criminal backgrounds or have been accused of misconduct in the past..."

"It will kill Bartran if he finds out," stated Albert, shaking his head. "He still thinks of it as Gertrude's home, as the house that she created..."

"I can assure you that nothing of Gertrude's is there," stated Ernest. "He sold all that she had put into the house, all that was theirs together. My man bought it all at a bargain price, I have it in storage. I will hold onto it for Jacob when he comes of age. Parker is obviously desperate to keep his actions a secret..."

"Have you spoken to Donna in regards to it?" asked Albert. "Perhaps she can shed some light upon the situation. I cannot believe that Susan does not know and if she does know, then what is the reason for it all?"

"She is meeting with the council now," stated Ernest. "I did not wish to tell her about it, it is not an easy thing to speak about with a man, but with the woman you love..."

Albert nodded, certain that he would never tell Stasha about what he had heard.

"I will send my man back to keep an eye on things," stated Ernest.

"Do that," stated Albert. "Your brother has the Gronolo decision hanging over him. Once he has made his decision, I think that we should speak to him about this, but not now..."

"Perhaps you are right," stated Ernest, rising and walking to the window. Looking out into the cold beyond the glass, he began to feel the same coldness growing in his mind. The Parker he knew was no more, he had been replaced by someone he did not know and could not trust. "My man will send us reports at regular intervals. I will let you know when I hear from him again."

"Very well," sighed Albert, "but I must confess that I will not look forward to them."

"Neither will I," replied Ernest quietly, "neither will I..."

***

Brogdan rose to leave. To his surprise, a servant had appeared a little while ago to inform him that the Prince would be leaving Angelrod shortly and was asking for him to accompany him.

Tara watched him, fascinated. It was as if you could see the wheels in his mind working behind his dark eyes.

"What do you think?" she asked finally.

"Something has gone wrong," stated Brogdan flatly. "The Princess is not returning with us, in fact the messenger said that she has left already. I do not understand..."

Tara turned from him and looked into the fire.

The two sat lost in their thoughts for a time before Tara spoke.

"I am sorry for him."

Brogdan looked at her as she gazed into the flames, her expression melancholy.

"I know you think I hate him," she stated softly. "I suppose it is a reasonable assumption because I cannot stand the look of him, but I also know that he has a kind heart. I know that he is not his father or whatever he calls the devil who spawned him, but it almost seems as if he is being punished for what his father did...as if he is being denied happiness for some wrong..."

"Do you see me as being punished?" asked Brogdan softly.

The question surprised her. Turning, she stared at him, confused.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I love you," he began softly, "but you will not marry me. In a sense, I am being denied happiness, don't you think? Is it because of some wrong that I have done that I am paying for?"

Rising, she crossed to him, hurt in her eyes, "Brogdan, you have done nothing wrong. You are a good man, there is no better man..."

"Then what am I paying for?" he asked calmly.

"It is not you, it is I," she replied, wrapping her arms around him and holding him close to her. "You deserve more...better than I can give you..."

"You are the best that I can dream of," he replied, holding her close to him. "I love you, Tara. I am not anyone but me and you are not anyone but you. I have made mistakes, but loving you is not one of them. If you love me, I beg you, please, consider nothing else but what is between us, what we share and then do what your heart bids you to do. Please stop telling me that you cannot give enough or that you cannot be the woman I want you to be because you already are the woman I want you to be. I love all of you, even your anger."

"That is a lot to love," she replied, squeezing him tightly. Looking up at him, she kissed him and forced a smile, "I will try, Brogdan, I promise you, my love, I will try."

Leaning down, he kissed her on the forehead, "I must go, the Prince needs me."

Kissing him again, she led him to the back door. As she opened it, she swallowed hard.

"Please tell him that I am sorry that things did not work out for him," she said softly.

Brogdan nodded, knowing how much the sentiment cost her.

"I will tell him, my love. Never forget that I love you," he said softly and then he walked out the back door, through the garden and was gone.

Tara took a chair at the table near the fireplace and after a few moments, began to cry softly.

Chapter 26

The group of young men on horses rode in the cold morning air slowly and silently, the gray sky and harsh landscape giving the entire journey the feel of a funeral procession. None of them, not Randy, nor Wilton, nor Brogdan, nor even Edward knew what to say to Jonathan as they rode towards Wharton, so each kept silent and tried not to intrude on the Prince's thoughts. Slightly ahead of the others, Jonathan rode in silence, his disappointment growing into despair despite his attempts at being objective about recent events.

Behind the men and the escort rode the ladies in a carriage, their discussion conducted in voices just above a whisper.

"You heard nothing?" asked Heather.

"I was listening to Wilton play the harp," confessed Ellen. "It was so awful it was funny. I never heard her leave, never heard anything. When Jonathan told us that she was gone, you could have knocked me over with a feather."

"Everything seemed to be going so well," said Heather, as much to herself as to the others. "Pauline, you heard nothing?"

"I am afraid I did not," replied Pauline, her heart heavy, for while the thought of him with another was painful, the sight of his misery was even harder to take. "I was with you, Heather. The poor Prince, I cannot imagine what he is suffering..."

"They seemed so happy together," stated Heather. "I thought for certain that he was going to request permission to court her..."

"From what Wilton said, it appears he did," said Ellen knowingly.

"Randy did not say so," stated Heather quickly.

"I do not know what he said to Randy," replied Ellen, "I can only tell you what he said to Wilton. Apparently, he DID ask her if he might court her and then he kissed her and nothing happened..."

Pauline looked at her cousin as if she had lost her mind.

"Nothing happened?"

"Not a thing," replied Ellen.

"If nothing happened then why did she refuse him?" asked Pauline, confusion descending upon her features.

"Because nothing happened," replied Ellen, rolling her eyes.

Pauline, feeling out of her depth, looked to Heather for an explanation.

"Apparently they felt no connection," explained Heather.

Pauline appeared even more confused, "How could they have no connection if they touched one another? If you kiss, are you not connected?"

Ellen laughed; a sound most inappropriate to the general mood of things. A look from Heather brought her quickly to her senses. Ellen glanced at her cousin and decided that it was time that she was instructed in the facts of life.

"Pauline, when you kiss the right man, fireworks go off. The room swirls, the angels sing..."

It was Heather's turn to roll her eyes, "Pauline, there was no spiritual connection. Yes, physically there was contact, but if Wilton is to be believed, she felt nothing when she was kissed by the Prince and apparently neither did he."

Pauline remained silent and looked down at her hands. She could not imagine for an instant that a kiss from the Prince would be anything but magnificent and memorable. For a brief moment, she thought that Princess Caroline must be suffering from some sort of deficiency, but realizing the thought was unkind, she felt angry with herself for having considered it.

"Well, I believe Wilton," stated Ellen. "Besides, he said that Jonathan had asked Randy to prepare the horses to leave, which is why Randy was not there when he spoke of the situation. All in all, does it matter? Jonathan is never going to find a Queen if he keeps up the way he is going..."

"It is not a matter of finding a Queen," replied Heather, trying to control her temper. "He is trying to find a wife. You did not fall in love with Wilton the moment you saw him."

"Wilton is not a prince," replied Ellen reasonably. "If he had been a prince, I would have fallen in love with him much more quickly..."

"Jonathan was interested in you," replied Heather. "He is a prince, why did you not fall in love with him?"

"If he had been princely I would have," replied Ellen. "Jonathan may be a prince, but he is not princely..."

"He is every inch a prince," stated Pauline quietly, but firmly.

"Pauline, I am sorry, but you do not know of what you speak," stated Ellen in a condescending tone. "Princess Caroline is a princess and has not fallen in love with him. If a princess, of all people, thinks he is not princely..."

"I did not hear Princess Caroline say any such thing about Jonathan," snapped Heather. "If they did not have a connection, he was too much of a gentleman to ask her to court him and possibly marry him knowing that she did not feel how he felt. To me, he has acted very nobly indeed..."

"You keep telling me how nobly he acts and yet nothing seems to change the fact that he is courting no one," stated Ellen. "Perhaps instead of acting "nobly" he should consider his obligations to his kingdom!"

Pauline's eyes flashed angrily at her cousin and she seemed on the verge of saying something but with an effort, she controlled herself.

"You think that all nobility is, is a title or a rank," replied Heather, annoyed with her cousin. "You have no idea that true nobility is a virtuous characteristic. Jonathan is both noble born and a true noble man. It is no wonder he rejected you."

"I REJECTED HIM!" hissed Ellen.

"He may not have said the words," replied Heather, "but by his actions, he rejected you and your beliefs. Now lower your voice, I do not need to hear your screeching this morning..."

Ellen pursed her lips in anger and turned away from Heather, staring out the window of the coach in furious silence.

With a glance at Heather, Pauline turned away, looking out the opposite carriage window and did not look back again until almost an hour later, when Heather stated quietly that she felt nauseous once again.

***

Anthony sat down, fighting the nerves he was feeling. The King had asked to speak to him alone and whether he meant to be so or not, the man was so big he could not help being intimidating. Anthony was no coward and he had no reason to believe that the King felt ill towards him, but something had him on his guard.

Alex turned towards him as he closed a paper he had been reading and offered him a brief smile.

"Milord," stated Alex, "I am glad that you could meet with me this morning."

"I am glad to be here, your highness," replied Anthony. "I am hoping that you will offer me some good news."

Alex frowned and Anthony's heart sank.

"I know what it is you wish me to say," stated Alex. "My reason for calling you here is to ask you one more time, why do you wish me to say it?"

Anthony blinked in surprise, "Why, your majesty?"

"You are a brilliant young man, milord," stated Alex. "Your arguments are well thought out, flawless, really. I commend your lord, the Duke, for having sent you. No one could have presented your arguments better. Even the Ambassador of Darma concedes that you are extremely persuasive."

"I am sure I am thankful that the Ambassador finds me persuasive," stated Anthony quietly.

"Why are you fighting so hard for Gronolo?" asked Alex. "You are brilliant enough to be a counselor for any kingdom, you could win high awards and accolades working for any monarch, certainly for more than the Duke could offer you..."

"But the Duke offers me something that, begging your majesty's pardon, no other monarch could offer me," replied Anthony.

"And that is?" asked Alex.

"Home," replied Anthony.

Alex gestured for him to continue.

"I was born and raised in Gronolo," stated Anthony. "My parents are buried there, my home is there. I learned about life there, grew up and fell in love there."

"You have a lady love?" smiled Alex.

"No, your highness," replied Anthony. "I have not had that great fortune yet. I fell in love with the people and land; fell in love with the place of my birth. I would give anything for my country, just as you would give anything for yours, I am sure. All that I am or hope to become started from Gronolo; where I will end, I cannot say, but I know from whence I've come and I am proud of it. I do not want anyone else to rule there, I do want anyone to change it in anyway. We are a happy people, a good people. If you will forgive me, sire, we are like your beloved wife."

Alex stared at him in surprise.

"Yes, sire, if you will forgive me for saying so, we are very much like the Queen," he continued. "We, like her, are small. We appear tiny next to Zambelia, even as she appears tiny when she stands beside you, sire. But like her, we are filled with beauty and goodness. We have no evil intentions, we seek only to be good and do good to others, just as her highness seeks to do good for others. I know that her highness is a strong, intelligent person, as we are a strong and intelligent people. I know that she does not wish to fight, just as we do not seek war, but I know that if you were threatened, there would be no one who would fight harder for you, despite her size, despite her desire for peace. Yes, sire, we are like her highness; we were not blessed with size, but we deserve respect and to be ourselves. You would never allow anyone to change her majesty, nor should you. All I am asking is that you help us to keep anyone from changing us."

Alex took in his words and then slowly smiled.

"I would deny my wife nothing," he stated quietly. "You will have your treaty, milord. In the name of the Queen, you will have your treaty..."

***

"Where the hell am I?" roared the traveler, awakening to find himself tied down upon a table.

"Oh, you're awake," called out a cheerful voice somewhere off to his right.

"What the hell is going on here?" asked the traveler.

A huge gorilla suddenly appeared above him, causing him to scream. The gorilla looked down at him with a slightly confused look and then he seemed to gather the problem.

"You are not used to being spoken to by a gorilla, are you?" he asked pleasantly.

"By the dragon's tail..." whispered Ragar.

"Don't be alarmed," replied the gorilla, "the Glorious One can do almost anything..."

"The Glorious One?" asked Ragar. "Who the hell is that?"

"That would be me," stated a voice to his left and suddenly, the old man from the road appeared above him.

"What sort of trick is this?" asked Ragar, his anxiety growing.

"No trick," responded the Glorious One. "Now you are used to tricks, are you not? You are a spy and not only a spy, but one with an important mission..."

"I don't know anything," screamed Ragar, hopeful someone might hear him.

"Why are you yelling?" asked the Glorious One. "We have no intention of hurting you..."

"What do you want?" yelled Ragar. "Let me alone, HELP! HELP!!!"

The gorilla looked down at him and shrugged, "Do you want me to silence him?"

"Not necessary," smiled the Glorious One. "He can scream himself hoarse, no one can hear him." Returning his attention to the traveler, he smiled once again, "Now my dear fellow, you are going to go to sleep for a while. While you are asleep, you will have some very vivid dreams, but on the whole, it will not be unpleasant and when you awake, the mischief you are planning may well have happened, even without you. We cannot interfere, you see, well, not directly, but we can keep promises."

"What in hell are you talking about?" asked Ragar, straining at the ropes holding him.

The Glorious One ignored the question, looking up at the gorilla, "Now you will be able to access his memory and his understanding and you will seek to complete his mission, but along the protocols we have outlined..."

"You're mad," laughed Ragar, his eyes showing the fear he was trying to hide. "Do you really think you can substitute a gorilla for me?"

"Of course not," stated the Glorious One, taking a hard look at him and then waving his hand towards the gorilla.

Ragar watched the gorilla and screamed again. The gorilla's face was shifting, changing, twisting like teaspoons of sugar in a glass of stirred water and then it came back together and Ragar was staring into his own face.

"BOO!" he screamed down at himself, watching as the true Ragar fainted.

"Now I'll have to awaken him to put him under again," stated the Glorious One unhappily.

"You wish me to complete his mission," stated the former gorilla.

"After you take this note to the Lord Ernest," stated the Glorious One. "You will be a double spy. Your reports will be seen by both sides. We cannot change events, but we can be fair, after all..."

"But I will cause damage, will I not?" asked the former gorilla.

"You will serve," stated the Glorious One meaningfully. "Once you have completed this mission, you may be set free, Morris, we will see. Do not think of it, however, think of what it is you must do."

"What about him?" asked Morris, pointing down at the man on the table top.

"He will be kept here, sleeping and silent and well cared for until his mission is over," stated the Glorious One. "Once all is done, then we will send him back to the authorities on the other side of the mountains to pay for the life of the young girl whom he killed, but that will be in time, Morris. Until then, he will dream and he will wait..."

Chapter 27

Heather sat in her room feeling absolutely awful. Why was this baby so disagreeable to food, or to drink, or to breathing for that matter? The last few miles from of the journey to Wharton had been miserable and she had barely made it to their rooms before becoming ill. Randy had gone with Jonathan to report to the King and quite possibly to hide from her, a fact she acknowledged as being both wise and incredibly aggravating. Still, with Pauline here, she was well taken care of, her cousin having grown expert at placing a bowl under her chin at the proper time. She could not imagine feeling more awful until...

The knock at the door startled her from a slight drowse into which she was falling. Pauline slid smoothly to the door and opened it to find Stasha standing on the other side, a large smile on her face. A servant girl entered behind Stasha and brought some tea and toast to Heather, who glanced up at her and then waved it away, raising her hand to her mouth in an attempt to prevent herself from spitting up. Stasha held a box which she handed to Pauline.

"This came for you a little while ago," stated Stasha.

"For me?" asked Pauline. "There must be some mistake..."

"It is from your mother," stated Stasha, walking over to Heather and placing a gentle hand upon her forehead. "How do you feel dear?"

"I wish I were dead," stated Heather quietly. "Other than that, I'm lovely..."

Stasha turned back to Pauline, "Oh, my..."

Heather turned to see Pauline holding a lovely green velvet gown accented with gold brocade. Pauline looked at them both bashfully and then folded the gown back into the box into which it came.

"That is lovely," said Stasha.

"A beautiful gown," agreed Heather, her voice low. "Who is the note from?"

Pauline looked at the note that was in the box and read it quietly.

"It is from Mama," she said softly. "She wants me to come home tomorrow. Will that inconvenience you, Heather?"

"We are leaving as well," stated Heather. "I want to die in my own home, thank you." She paused and looked at Pauline, "If she wants you to go home tomorrow, why did your mother send you the dress?"

Pauline looked at the floor shyly, "Oh, it is nothing..."

"Nothing?" asked Heather. "Your mother does not send you fancy gowns for nothing, Pauline."

Pauline looked at the box and then back at the gown, "She sent it as a present...for my birthday..."

Heather closed her eyes and moaned, "YOUR BIRTHDAY!"

"Your birthday?" asked Stasha. "Why did you not tell us?"

"It is not important," said Pauline, embarrassed. "My mother sent my gift here. She does not like for me to wait and I will not see her until tomorrow..."

"Oh my God," moaned Heather. "I have been so miserable that I have forgotten your birthday..."

"It is nothing," replied Pauline.

"Nothing?" asked Stasha. "Nonsense! It is your birthday! How old are you?"

"It is not an important birthday," murmured Pauline, "I am twenty three..."

"It IS important," replied Stasha. "Now what must we do? We will have a cake at dinner..."

"Please, Stasha, no," begged Pauline, suddenly looking mortified. "The King and Queen have been so kind to me and I would die if I were the center of attention, please, please promise me...say nothing."

Stasha looked at her and she appeared so earnest in her entreaties that she finally relented.

"Very well," stated Stasha, "but I will see to it that something special is left for you in your bedroom tonight, so help me."

"It is not necessary..." began Pauline.

"It is so," snapped Stasha. "If the King weren't entertaining the Earl tonight I would have the party to end all parties for you!"

After more pleading, Stasha promised not to mention Pauline's birthday to anyone else. Upon Stasha leaving, Heather held a napkin to her lips, feeling both physically awful and like a wretch for having forgotten her cousin's birthday.

"Good God in Heaven," she moaned, "how could I forget your birthday? What a terrible, miserable wretch I am..."

"Nonsense," said Pauline, dipping a cloth into some cool water and pressing it to her forehead.

"Oh God, Pauline, I am sorry, I did not even get you a gift..."

"It does not matter..."

"Yes, yes it does." Heather grabbed her hand and held it to her cheek, "You are my best friend, you have done so much for me...Please, please tell me what you want, anything, anything at all..."

"I really do not want anything..."

"Please," moaned Heather, bringing her napkin to her lips and staring at her cousin with beseeching eyes.

"I suppose..." began Pauline, angry with herself for having begun.

"What?" asked Heather. "Tell me!"

"Well, as you are ill...it is not important," stammered Pauline.

"Tell me, please," begged Heather, wincing at the nausea.

"It is just..." She was aggravated with herself, why had she said anything. "I was just thinking...perhaps it would be nice..."

"WHAT?" snapped Heather, fighting the sick feeling and knowing she was losing the battle.

"I just thought," stammered Pauline, "I thought maybe, if he would not mind...with you being ill, I mean, I just thought that perhaps the Prince might consent to allow me a dance...I should not have mentioned it..."

"You want to have a dance with Jonathan?" asked Heather.

Pauline felt her face growing red as she stared at the floor wishing it would open and swallow her up.

"I just thought..." she mumbled.

Heather could no longer contain her misery and she brought up her breakfast into her handkerchief. Pauline was beside her in an instant, placing a bowl beneath her chin and wiping her face as Heather gasped.

"I wish I could die," muttered Heather.

Pauline looked down at her, "I understand how you feel..."

***

"Nothing?" asked Alex.

Jonathan merely nodded, unable to look his father in the eye.

"And the young lady?" asked Albert.

"Nothing," replied Jonathan, his voice barely a whisper.

Albert looked to Alex and gestured vaguely, "She is so attractive..."

"I am sorry," stated Jonathan.

"Do not be sorry, my son," stated Alex, feeling awful at seeing the pain in Jonathan's face. "It is better you found out now..."

"Nothing?" asked Albert again. Alex shot him a look, "I am sorry, sire, it is just I cannot fathom it...She's lovely, he's handsome, I am somewhat surprised, they make such a lovely couple..."

"I am sorry, Albert," replied Jonathan. "We just did not have a connection...I do not know how to explain it."

"The ball tonight," moaned Albert. "We were going to announce it...Never mind, Jonathan." Albert took a deep breath and regained his control. "It is not your fault, it is not hers... these things happen. Besides, your father has invited the Earl to be the guest of honor tonight..."

"You have decided about Gronolo, father?" asked Jonathan, forcing himself to think about something other than his own misery.

"Yes," replied Alex. "I sent a letter to the Duke this morning stating that we will join Gronolo in a treaty. After speaking to your mother, I decided that it was the proper thing to do. The Earl will be the guest of honor tonight, Jonathan, you need not worry about people saying anything..."

"Father," he felt a weight growing on his chest, a misery he could not shake. "Father, may I return to Angelrod today. I have no wish to be at a ball...please father..."

"But sire," began Albert, "it will appear as though the Prince is hiding..."

Alex held up a restraining hand to Albert and then, "Of course, Jonathan, of course. Go..."

Jonathan rose and withdrew. Hesitating at the door, he repeated, "I am sorry..." and was gone.

***

Jacob stared at his grandfather, his concern growing. He had been with his grandfather too often not to know when the older man was uneasy or tense.

"What is it, Grandfather?" he asked finally.

The Count offered him a sad smile and forced a laugh, "I am being greedy, Jacob..."

"Greedy?" asked Jacob. "You are the most generous man I know..."

The Count shook his head, "I fear that your father will wish for you to return home and I cannot stand the thought of not having you with me."

Jacob frowned, "I do not wish to go back, Grandfather..."

The Count reached out and touched the boy's hand, "I wish you never had to, Jacob. I miss you so much when you are not about..."

Jacob's eyes went wide with excitement.

"Why must I go? Why can I not stay here, at Wharton?"

"You have to return home sometime..." began Bartran.

"Not if father would allow me to become a squire to the King!" stated Jacob.

"You are still a bit young..."

"You could arrange it, Grandfather," smiled Jacob. "Aunt Marie could speak to Uncle Alex and you could speak to him. I would be good, Grandfather, I would do whatever they need me to do and you could stay here, Uncle Alex is always asking you to stay..."

"But it is your father's decision..."

"He does not want me home," stated Jacob. "He does not want me there and you want me to be with you and this would be perfect. Joseph is often here and Uncle Ernest and Aunt Stasha and Uncle Albert..."

The Count shook his head, "Very well, I can ask. I do not think your Uncle Alex will say yes, but I will ask..." The Count could not contain a small smile, "Are you certain that you are hoping to become a squire in order to stay closer to me or in order to remain closer to Annalisse?"

Jacob turned a bright red, he had a terrible crush on Annalisse, he had had it all of his life, "I like Annalisse, Grandfather, but I want to stay with you..."

"I was just joking..." began the Count.

To his surprise, Jacob flew into his arms and hugged him tightly.

"I do not wish to leave you, Grandfather," he said, his voice muffled against the Count's shoulder.

Bartran leaned down and kissed him gingerly on top of his head.

"I will speak to your Uncle, I promise you...I promise you..."

Chapter 28

Susan lay back on her pillows and looked down at Parker as he rolled onto his back, gasping for breath. His love making had become more ardent and direct ever since he had begun his adulteries, a fact that she enjoyed immensely. He had been entirely too tender when they were first wed, too gentle. Running her hand through his hair, she chuckled lightly.

"You made love to me as if I were the chambermaid," she said, watching her words strike her husband's conscious, making him uneasy.

"Whatever do you mean?" he asked, trying not to sound defensive and failing miserably.

"I just mean that you were anxious, as if you were afraid we would be caught..." she replied, letting her words linger a moment before continuing. "What do you think of the new girl?"

"Which one?" asked Parker, honestly confused by her question.

They seemed to hire staff every week, it had gotten so that he we having trouble remembering names. It never struck him as odd that almost all of their staff were female, even the gardener for the terrace plants was a woman. He smiled as a picture of her raced through his mind. She was holding onto the doorway of the small hut in which she kept some of her tools, nude, as he ravished her from behind, her arms straining to hold her body in the doorway as he groped and fondled and thrust against her body. It was a good thing that she had upper body strength that day...

"Eva," drawled Susan.

The single word brought Parker back to the present.

"She is an odd one," he stated before he thought of censoring his remark.

"Odd?" asked Susan, taking his hand into her own and directing it towards her exposed nether regions. "In what way?"

Parker cursed himself for not having edited his comment before he had spoken.

"I merely mean that she seems to enjoy her job," he stated, his fingers gently stroking up and down on her most sensitive points. "I find it odd that anyone would enjoy spending their life pouring wine erotically."

"Do you find her erotic?" asked Susan, his stimulation beginning to take effect.

"She attempts to be erotic," stated Parker, lowering his head and nibbling gently around his fingers, his lips causing his wife's body to jump slightly to his touch.

"Do you enjoy erotic women?" she moaned.

"I enjoy you," he countered, his actions slowly causing her to lose interest in the conversation.

Susan forced her thoughts to continue even as her body continued to surrender to his ministrations.

"Do you wish to enjoy Eva?" she asked harshly, her words forced through the heat that was engulfing her mind.

Parker did not answer, his hands and tongue growing rougher, thrusting, twisting, assaulting her most tender flesh.

"Do you?" hissed Susan, arching her back, her body begging him to fulfill the promises his hands and tongue were making.

Parker pulled his mouth away, turning to bite her inner thigh. He laughed as he heard her curse and moan and then beg him to continue. He rose above her, grasping her breasts, twisting her nipples as he entered her, his pleasure growing at the mixture of lust and pain he saw on her face. Yes so beautiful and so selfish. He would teach her. As he rode her his hand closed upon her throat, he watched as her beautiful, delicate face began to turn red, her hands alternating between grasping his and grasping the sheets, her head twisting, her breath raspy. He was riding her furiously now, his body aching for release as was hers but he fought to withhold it, to withhold her pleasure as well as his. It was too much, finally it was too much and he thrust savagely against her, his head dropping to her breast, taking it into his mouth, biting it firmly as he released her throat. As his body began to relax, he felt his hand slide up her waist, stroking her skin gently.

Looking up into her face he was startled to see her smile. Her face was just returning to her normal color and there were bruises along her nipple where he had bitten down.

"The thought of Eva excites you," she purred. "I will have to remember that when you are in a lackluster mood..."

Parker looked away and then buried his face in his hands.

***

Annalisse began preparing for the ball earlier than she had ever begun preparing for a ball before. Something she would not admit to herself was driving her to want to appear perfect tonight.

Locking her chamber door, she went to her mirror and slowly stripped down until she stood before it, nude. She eyed herself critically. She had a beautiful figure, long legs, a small waist, full breasts partially hidden by her curly, golden hair. Wrapping herself in her robe, she unlocked her chamber door and retreated to the bathing chamber, taking a long, warm bath. She loved the bath, it was a place where she could think undisturbed by any outside distractions.

Leaning back into the warm water, she felt her hair becoming heavier and heavier until she was under the water and it seemed to weigh nothing at all. Opening her eyes, she saw the strands of her hair dancing in the water, floating like angels in the clear warm water. Pulling her head out of the water while keeping the rest of her body below the water line, she reached for the soap and began to lather herself.

Would she be asked to dance by the Earl tonight, she wondered? She had a sneaking feeling that there was something between the two of them, but did he feel that way as well? He must have noticed it, his expressions, his reactions, all of it spoke of him feeling the same things she was feeling. Was it serious, she wondered? Was it something that could lead to something important in her life, or was it just a fascination with an attractive man? There were many attractive men at court and many of them were vying for her attention. She did not say this immodestly, she was the King's daughter after all and it never hurt ones chances to praise the daughter of the King, she knew that to be true. Still, from the Earl, it was not mere flattery, not a mere political trick or feign. Either the Earl was the greatest liar who ever lived or he was sincere about what he had said and how he had acted.

Was she sincere, she wondered? Was she merely acting this way because she enjoyed the attention and flattery? No, she did not think so. What woman does not like to be flattered? What man, for that matter? No, this was not because he said that he found her attractive, that was not what she was feeling, not flattered or praised. It was not that he had acted attentively or kindly towards her. She honestly felt a connection with him.

"You are being ridiculous," she scolded herself, washing her face vigorously with the washcloth. "What connection could you feel with a person you've met only twice?"

And yet, it was true. She felt something special when he was around. She rinsed her body and lingered a moment longer in the tub before rising from the water and carefully drying herself. Placing her robe back on, she returned to her chamber and locked the door once again.

Making her way to her wardrobe, she opened the door and peered in at her dresses. What to wear, what to wear. She found nothing to her liking, nothing at all. When she was younger, she remembered watching the ladies of the court dress for functions, the Lady Stasha and her mother and of course, the Lady Gertrude. Lady Gertrude had looked like an angel, she was so lovely and Stasha had always made her laugh as she prepared for a ball but her mother, her mother knew how to appear special. Yes, she wanted to be like her mother tonight, she wanted to appear special. Ringing a bell on her dressing table, a servant girl entered and bowed.

"Tersa," she said softly, "would you please go to my mother and ask her if she might attend me. I need her counsel..."

"At once, milady," replied the young girl.

Yes, she thought, she needed her mother's help...

***

Jonathan looked down the road and saw his first glimpse of Angelrod, his mood gloomy. Randy, Wilton and his escort were riding a respectful distance behind him, each man silent, each man miserable. Randy and Wilton had agreed to keep an eye on their friend, each reluctantly leaving his wife to be with his friend in his time of need. They had answered the Lord Albert's summons and had found him almost frantic that the Prince was not attending the ball tonight for the Earl from Gronolo. All of the men with him, however, felt for the Prince and understood his need to be away from the court. Each one genuinely liked and loved Jonathan and each felt the pain of his having failed in love once again.

As for Jonathan, he questioned himself in his mind, both angry and hurt. Why did these things never seem to work out for him? He loved Randy and Wilton like brothers, but how could they have ended up so happy and him so miserable? Randy and Heather had surprised him, startled him when they had announced their engagement, but it made sense after seeing them together. Randy loved Heather and to his surprise, she genuinely loved him. As for Wilton and Ellen, it was obvious that Wilton adored the ground his wife walked upon. Ellen was harder to read, but he hoped that she loved her husband.

Maybe Ellen was harder to read because she was another one who had gotten away, rejecting him for his friend. It would not have worked, in his mind he knew that, they were too different, but he could not help but wonder, what is wrong with me? To the objective observer, he had a lot more to offer than Wilton, yet Wilton had captured her heart. Was he so conceited he was fooling himself? Jonathan muttered to himself and shook his head, the others unable to understand his words, but falling further back, wishing to leave him to his thoughts.

Caroline was wonderful; beautiful, accomplished, smart, why had there been no connection? Ellen was beautiful and accomplished as well. He could not claim she was overly intelligent, but she had been smart enough not to court him, so who was the less intelligent one?

"Don't assign blame," he muttered to himself. Still, he could not help wondering; was it their fault or his? Was he unlovable? He was nice, he thought, or was he just fooling himself? Both Caroline and Ellen had been nice, or had appeared that way in the beginning. Was he conceited and arrogant like his birth father? Was he evil? He shook his head, God please don't let me be like him, please...

He knew he was not a good speaker, was not comfortable speaking with women, but was that a good reason to throw a fellow over? Why was it so hard to speak to them anyway? It made no sense, he scolded himself, no sense at all. You can speak with Heather without a problem. You can speak to Lady Pauline without a thought, but with Ellen and Caroline it had been so difficult and he had felt like a fool most of the time.

He always felt as if he were pushing himself to speak to them, he concluded. He could never just talk to them, never just be himself. Caroline had been easier to speak to than Ellen had, but then if he felt more relaxed, he had nothing to speak to her about. They had nothing in common at all; even their talks about court and government left them further from one another instead of growing closer. He could speak with Lady Pauline for hours about poetry, or any number of things, of that he was certain, but to Caroline, talking about the weather had been a difficult proposition.

Ellen had been even worse. Not only had it been harder to speak to her and they had nothing in common, but she had questioned his entire system of values. She berated him and belittled his ideas and ideals. When they were on his quest, Lady Pauline had disagreed with him, had gone so far as to correct him, but she had never belittled him, in fact she had spoken only to point out that he was not being true to his own beliefs. God knew what Ellen believed, especially if it was not about something that smelled nice, looked pretty or could be purchased...

Oh, they were both beautiful, that he knew. Physically you would have to go a long way to find another woman in the same league with either Ellen or Caroline. No, he knew he lusted after them, of that he was certain and slightly ashamed. He did not want lust, it made men animals, like his birth father, Robert. He wanted love, like what his parents shared, what Heather and Randy and Ellen and Wilton shared, or at least seemed to share. His mind wandered in its anger and hurt, wandered back to the night before he had kissed Caroline. He thought of Lady Pauline, so sweet and innocent, so quiet and calm. He thought of her face in the firelight, of her little crooked smile, of her bashfulness, of her childlike delight looking down at the books. How could a girl so brave as to face down that huge dog be so gentle, so kind...She seemed to float and hover and disappear like smoke, but she was strong and spoke her mind and told the truth even though you could see how dearly it cost her. He thought of her little smile and her large eyes, her little snub nose and he imagined holding her and kissing her lips, those lips that ascended so unevenly when she smiled...

"What in the hell are you thinking of Lady Pauline for?" screamed his mind. "You just lost a Princess and you are thinking of..."

Jonathan felt his heart beating, felt his body relaxing, felt his mind suddenly flooded. For a moment the world seemed to swim before his unseeing eyes and then realign. Not the world outside, not the world with a road and trees and problems, but the interior world, the world where a man lives and searches and seeks answers about the outside world and his place in it.

"JONATHAN!"

Jonathan looked to his right and saw Randy staring at him with the most peculiar expression, a mixture of fear and concern and puzzlement.

"What?" he asked casually.

"Are you alright?" asked Randy.

Jonathan nodded absently, "Fine..."

"Where are you going?" asked Wilton, drawing closer.

"Going?" he asked, as if the word was foreign to him.

"You passed your gate," stated Wilton with a gentle smile, unsure of what his friend was thinking.

"What?"

"You rode your horse past your gate and then you drew to a stop and haven't moved," stated Randy. "Are you all right?"

Jonathan glanced back and saw the gates to Angelrod were behind him. He should have turned into the gate, he thought, but he had never seen them, he had been too absorbed, lost in his thoughts about Lady Pauline.

"I am an idiot," he stated calmly to his two friends.

"I don't believe that you are," stated Randy. "I am certain other people miss their gates..."

"I don't think that makes you an idiot," agreed Wilton.

"I am an idiot," repeated Jonathan.

The two exchanged an anxious glance and then looked at Jonathan. He seemed to be forming an idea, about what they had not a clue.

"We must get back to Wharton," he announced.

"Wharton?" asked Randy. "Jonathan, we just CAME from Wharton, remember?"

"You said that you didn't want to be at Wharton for all of the gold in the world," stated Wilton.

"What time does the ball begin?" asked Jonathan, his eyes narrowing.

"Ball?" asked Wilton. "You said if you had to attend another ball you would kill yourself..."

"We need to get back to Wharton," stated Jonathan firmly. "She will be there..."

"Who will be there?" asked Randy. "Princess Caroline has left, Jonathan..."

Before he could finish his sentence, Jonathan spurred his horse and headed back up the road from whence they had just come. His horse, Gold Pillar, raced like the wind and was beyond them and the escort in seconds. He was down the road so suddenly that both the escort and his friends were a moment in realizing what had happened.

"AFTER HIM!" shouted Randy and the group took off at a gallop after the Prince.

Chapter 29

"Mama, am I foolish for doing this?" asked Annalisse.

"For doing what?" asked Marie casually. "I see no problem in wanting to appear your best..."

"I'm done," stated Stasha triumphantly. "I was able to let out the hem an inch or two, cinch the waist a bit and loosen the bust a bit. There isn't much more I can do if this doesn't work."

"I cannot believe that you are taller than I am," smiled Marie.

Annalisse grabbed the gown and retreated behind her bed, slipping it on as Stasha came over and began to lace the back up for her. In a moment she turned to show her mother, who stood looking at her speechless. To Annalisse' surprise, tears welled up in her mother's eyes.

"You look so beautiful, my little girl," she said, her voice breaking.

"Are you certain that you are all right with his Mama?" asked Annalisse. "I know that this dress holds so much history for you and Daddy."

"He will love seeing you in it," replied Marie, embracing her daughter and kissing her on the cheek. "You look radiant."

"I did a pretty good job if I do say so myself," laughed Stasha. "You look like an angel, an absolute angel."

Annalisse smiled and twirled quickly to see herself in the mirror. An angel, it was what she had told Lady Gertrude, that she looked like an angel. Somehow, in this dress, her mother's special dress, she felt more confident than she ever had before. What would her father think? Would the Earl notice?

***

Heather propped herself up in bed as Randy raced into the room and slid down beside her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, unable to contain her surprise at his sudden appearance.

"I believe that Jonathan has lost his mind," replied Randy. "We chased him all the way back to Wharton, we made the trip in a little over an hour. I think I killed my horse, I've never seen anyone ride the way he was riding, the wind could not catch him..."

"Jonathan came back?" asked Heather, trying to catch up to the conversation.

"He insisted on coming back," replied Randy. "We were at the gates of Angelrod, in fact we passed the gates of Angelrod. He was just sitting on his horse with this blank stare and then he said he was an idiot and raced off back here to Wharton. Wilton is with him now, he is insisting on getting dressed for the ball tonight. I have no idea what has gotten into him..."

"THE BALL!" snapped Heather. "Listen to me, get me some paper, quickly, quickly!"

Randy bounced up and had retrieved the paper, a quill and an inkwell before he had even thought to ask why.

"I need to send Jonathan a note, it is so important," she murmured. "Do you know that today is Pauline's birthday?"

"Really," replied Randy. "I thought it was Act-Crazy-And-Make-No-Sense-Day!"

Heather shot him a glance that brought him back in line immediately.

"Take this note to Jonathan immediately," she stated. "I forgot Pauline's birthday, completely forgot about it, I feel so awful, I deserve to be sick and miserable for forgetting. Take this to Jonathan, NOW!"

Randy retrieved the note from her fingers and made his way to the door. Stopping at the door, her turned and asked, "Are you not happy to see me?"

"I am delighted that you have returned," she replied. "Now go and give that to Jonathan or you will wish you had never been born."

Randy shot out the door and into the hall. Love was not for cowards, he thought, not at all...

***

Pauline sat at the dressing table in her room, combing her hair and gazing at her reflection. She loved the feel of her new gown, her mother sewed better than anyone she knew and she knew how to make such comfortable gowns. She stared at herself for a moment, she loved this gown, it was so special. She stroked the sleeve and ran her finger along the brocade. It was not the gown she would dance with the Prince in, but it was the gown her mother had made for her and she loved it.

She knew that Jonathan would not be attending the ball tonight and she was actually relieved. She could not believe she had exposed herself like that to Heather. Thank goodness her cousin was too nauseous to pay her much mind. Sometimes it was wonderful to just slide into the background and go unnoticed. What had possessed her, what had possessed her?

She looked at her reflection a moment more. She knew what they said about her, plain Pauline, she knew. Pauline was filled with too much honesty and common sense to get angry at such words. After all, they were right, she was plain. She would never be a great beauty such as her cousin Ellen or even pretty like her cousin Heather. She did not have a pretty face, oh, it would do, but it was not memorable. Men did not turn and watch her when she passed by, she did not light up a room when she entered it as some women did.

Looking down at her neckline made her smile ruefully. Ellen was voluptuous and Heather had a lovely figure. Gazing down at her chest, she had to admit that there was only the slightest hint of a womanly bust. She had taken after her father's side of the family and was built like her maiden aunts, all of them thin and unshapely. Devoid of clothing, she knew she did not have the alluring hips and robust breasts that men seemed to desire. Her symmetry tended toward straight lines. Still, she was strong and healthy and one should be thankful for that, even if it did not leave men crawling in ones' wake.

Plain Pauline, yes, she was plain, there was no mistaking that, but still, she was honest and true and caring and that was more important in her mind than any other beauty she could have possessed. Looking at the gown, she realized that she was loved, her parents loved her. She forced herself to smile, if one of the older gentlemen asked her to dance, she would say yes tonight. It was her birthday, she would have a wonderful time...

Chapter 30

Jonathan stared at his reflection in the mirror as Wilton stood silent guard in the background. He knew that Jonathan was brooding about something but he had said nothing, feeling it was not right to ask him about it. All he could do was watch and wait to see what his friend was doing. He hoped Jonathan had not lost his mind. Randy was not a poor thinker, but he was not Jonathan and Wilton knew his strength in things was his physical strength, not his thinking. He looked at Jonathan, peering at himself in the mirror. He seemed fine and yet...

Jonathan stared at himself and repeated in his mind, he had been an idiot. Still, he asked himself, was he such an idiot that she would never consider him? Had he acted like such a fool that she might not ever like him? The thought was so heavy he could barely stand it. He had run after others right in front of her, had moped about losing women who could not hold a candle to her. How could he have been so blind?

He suddenly remembered something his Aunt Donna had said to him. He had lost Ellen and they were in the garden and she had taken his hands into her own and said with such sincerity.

"When you find her, Jonathan, she will find you as well."

He had no idea of what she meant at the time, but having kissed Caroline and felt nothing, he now understood. Was he fooling himself about Pauline, would it be another one sided affair just like the others had been?

Randy slipped into the room unnoticed by Jonathan until he felt a hand upon his shoulder.

"Jonathan, I hate to interrupt your thoughts, but Heather said you must read this."

Jonathan looked at the note and grit his teeth. Not now, he thought, not now! Still, he opened the note and forced himself to look at it. His eyes went wide and for a moment, a thousand ideas fought for dominance in his mind. Just as suddenly, the voice of reason slammed a door shut upon the multitude of ideas. You would embarrass her, you would humiliate her, she is much too shy for a display such as anything you have just imagined. Jonathan nodded, yes, yes, he would have to be much more subtle. He would lose her with a grand gesture, but despite his own admonition, he still would do what he had been planning to do on his ride back to Wharton. That much he would do and then, he would be cautious and patient...then he would see if what he hoped for could be true.

***

"Jonathan is here?" asked Marie, startled by the news.

"He came roaring back, if the reports are to be believed," replied Alex. "He flew back, jumped off his horse and ran inside to prepare for the ball."

"What on earth?" asked Marie.

"I have no idea, my love," replied Alex as he slipped a new tunic over his large upper body. "I was as surprised as you are..."

Marie considered it, what could have made him change his mind in such a manner? He had been desperate to get away. He had barely said goodbye to her or Annalisse, running to his estate and then this? She shook her head and then turned to look at Alex. He looked so handsome in his new tunic and robe. She found him looking at her with such sincere eyes that it almost made her self-conscious.

"Stop staring at me," she said softly.

"I cannot help but stare at you," he replied, sliding up to her and wrapping her in his arms. "You grow more beautiful each day..."

"If by getting wrinkled and gray you mean beautiful, I am well on my way," she giggled as he nuzzled her neck.

"There is time before we need to go..." he began.

"No," she replied, kissing him quickly on the lips. "Perhaps afterwards, but not before..."

"I do not care," he replied, holding her so tightly that she felt as if she might not be able to breathe soon. "As long as I am near you, it is all that I ask..."

She kissed him passionately, "It is all that I pray for every day, my love..."

***

The guests slowly drifted into the ballroom, each one unaware of the momentous events they were to witness. Few would realize what they had seen even after they had seen it take place. For all, it was a story they would realize only later, much later.

As the people entered the ballroom, they were greeted by the King and Queen alone, Marie telling Alex that Annalisse wished to appear only after her brother had chosen his partner, something he considered an odd request, but one that Alex honored none the less. The entire evening had begun oddly to Alex' mind, the sudden return of his son, his daughter appearing after the guests had been greeted, everything seemed odd about it, but he would do his best not to show his curiosity and to act as the gracious host.

Many beautiful women had turned out for the ball, both to meet the triumphant Earl and for the chance to see if they might catch the attention of the newly single Prince. It was rumored that he and the Princess Caroline had parted company, leaving him once again, the most eligible bachelor in the kingdom. It was well known that the Lady Heather was indisposed this evening, so the handsome fellow had no one to hide behind. The field was open now and all of them looked forward to attracting his attention for the first dance.

At last the time had come and Jonathan finally made his appearance. He seemed very elegant in his dark royal blue suit of clothing and many of the females present sensed a sadness in his gorgeous eyes as he intently searched the crowd. To Pauline his arrival was a complete surprise; Heather had assured her that the Prince was going to the safety and quiet of Angelrod to nurse his newest disappointment, why he was here she could not imagine.

As he gained the center of the floor, the vast group bowed and curtsied and awaited the Prince's choice. For once, they did not have to wait for long.

Jonathan strode directly towards Pauline and extending his hand and speaking in a quiet voice asked her gently, "Lady Pauline, will you do me the honor of joining me for the first dance?"

Pauline was so nervous that she did not respond immediately. She had hoped for a dance, an unobtrusive dance sometime later in the evening. The idea of being the first dance had never entered her mind. Glancing up at him, she arose and took his hand, treasuring the feel of his skin against her own.

After a moment, she realized that it made sense. Heather was not here and no one would make anything of his choice of her cousin. The Prince was both allowing her a great honor for her birthday and protecting himself from the hordes who sought his company.

"I would be delighted, your highness," she whispered.

The women around her looked up in sheer disappointment. He had done it again, chosen someone safe, someone non-committal. Pauline was known as Heather's cousin, a non-entity and certainly not someone the Prince was interested in. Perhaps it was a good sign, some reasoned. His heart had been broken and now, he was hiding until he could love again. The thought assuaged many feelings that night. None realized why or what had happened; all saw, but no one noticed the look in his eyes as he took her hand.

Gaining the center of the dance floor, the Prince placed his arm around Pauline's waist, marveling at how she slid into place as if his arm had been molded especially for her. For Pauline, the idea that she was in his arms was almost too much, but she forced herself to remain calm as she saw him nod his head. A moment later, the orchestra began to play and they were off. She had danced with others before, but no one as graceful certainly.

Pauline stared at his chest, glancing occasionally at his face, surprised to see him looking at her intently. Relax, she warned herself, relax and enjoy it. What a wonderful memory to have and to hold. She would treasure this moment for the rest of her life, she, plain Pauline had danced with a handsome Prince!

Jonathan could not take his eyes from her face, could see that she was thinking as they moved about the floor. She was graceful and so warm in his arms. Her hair flowed in the breeze their movement created and he smelled the scent of it, of vanilla and flowers, a clean smell that entranced him.

"I understand, milady, that today is your birthday," he said softly.

He saw her glance up at him and then back down at his chest as she spoke, "Yes, your royal highness. Thank you so much for making it such a memorable day for me. I will never forget your kindness."

"Lady Pauline," he said, "might I ask a favor of you in return?"

She nodded, looking up at him, "Of course, your royal highness..."

He smiled down at her sheepishly, suddenly shy, "Might I ask you, dear lady, to call me Jonathan?"

Pauline seemed slightly startled by his request and hesitated.

"Of course, your highness, if you would prefer it..."

After a moment, he spoke again, "Might I ask the privilege of calling you by your first name as well...please."

Looking back at his chest she stammered, "Of course...Jonathan, by all means..."

You should have offered that to him, she scolded herself. You should have said it and not waited for him to suggest it!

"Thank you...Pauline," he smiled, his arm holding her, it seemed, slightly tighter. "It is a very lovely name, Pauline..."

"Thank you, your...I mean, Jonathan," she replied, her crooked smile flashing across her face.

She had no idea of what Heather had said to him, but she was completely convinced that Heather was the best cousin anyone had ever had and she would tell her so the moment she saw her. How kind he was, how generous and sweet...

Looking up at him, she once again noted how intently he was looking at her and she found herself losing herself in the moment. He was so handsome and such a good dancer, she felt as if she could dance with him forever. He looked at her so strangely, as if he were seeing her for the first time, it was so odd. She no longer looked away, no longer felt the need to say anything, no longer found the silence awkward. It was as if the two of them were the only people in the world and her only job was to look at him and to be happy. What a wonderful birthday gift, she thought, just to be so happy...

The music drew to a close and as it stopped, she noticed for the first time that the floor was actually filled with other dancers. To her surprise the King and Princess Annalisse were not far away. How had they come to be here? She had seen no one but him, no one at all.

Jonathan too heard the music drawing to a close and found himself surprised at the sudden appearance of people, as if they had suddenly sprung up from the floor. The music ended and they both stepped back slightly to applaud before the next song began.

Pauline smiled at him, "Thank you so much, Jonathan," she loved the sound of his name. "Thank you again..."

"Will you do me the honor of this dance?" he asked anxiously, taking her hand once again.

Pauline blinked, surprised by the question.

"Are you sure?" she asked, speaking before she had really thought.

Jonathan laughed, "Yes, I have never been more certain of anything in my life. Please..."

Pauline's crooked smile returned, "Thank you, Jonathan. I would love to dance with you..."

Chapter 31

Marie had watched as Jonathan strode towards the side of the dance floor and requested a young lady to dance with him. She was slightly surprised at how quickly he had decided, but was unable to tell who the young lady was because her back was to the royal couple.

"Who is Jonathan dancing with?" she asked Alex.

Alex squinted, "I believe it is Lady Pauline of Lanclyn."

Marie smiled slightly, "She is such a sweet young woman..."

"Not if you attempt to take her ice cream," chuckled Alex.

Marie looked up at him, not comprehending.

"When she was a young girl, she and her father came to visit Wharton," he explained. "She was eating a bowl of ice cream and you could see how she was enjoying it. I walked up to her and explained that I was King and that she had to share her ice cream with me and she refused. So I told her if she did not share it, I would take it from her and she stood there and stamped her foot and said no. I never laughed so hard in all my life. She was such a tiny little thing but she would not give up that ice cream without a fight."

"She must love ice cream," smiled Marie, as Alex took her hand to lead her to the floor. "Not yet."

Alex looked at her surprise. Protocol called for them to dance before others could join the Prince upon the floor. Marie nodded her head towards the door and Alex looked in that direction. What he saw stunned him.

Standing at the far side of the room, Annalisse made her entrance on Albert's arm. She was wearing her mother's gown, the gown that had been given to Alex for his bride by the Dragon King. The King of the Dragons had offered Alex a choice upon his engagement to Marie, a golden suit of armor or a magnificent gown for his intended bride. Alex had chosen the gown. Marie had worn it on so many important occasions that Alex could not remember them all. It was the dress he favored most of all of her gowns, its history so rich a part of the fabric of their history and now, his little girl was wearing it and had never looked more beautiful in all of her life.

"You are pleased?" asked Marie, beaming.

"She has never looked more like you and she has never looked more beautiful," he replied.

"I was thinking that perhaps you would dance this first dance with her," stated Marie.

Kissing her hand, Alex crossed to Annalisse, taking her from Albert and leading her onto the dance floor. He held her tightly as they swept across the floor, unable to say anything for a moment.

"You look so beautiful, Annalisse," he managed finally. "You look so much like your mother..."

"I was worried that you would not like me borrowing Mama's dress," she replied, relieved by his response.

"You look enchanting, my dear, absolutely enchanting," he replied.

"Thank you, Daddy," replied Annalisse.

Alex beamed as he led her about the floor, truly saddened by the end of the song. As the music ended, he was surprised to feel a tap upon his shoulder. Turning, he found the guest of honor, the Earl of Carria standing beside him. The Earl was dressed in a glorious white uniform that made it seem as if he were sparkling. With great dignity, he offered the King a deep and respectful bow.

"Your most royal highness," he said, forcing himself to stare at Alex. "I have already asked too many favors and received too many kindnesses from you, but I beg to ask your indulgence one last time. Please, your most royal highness, allow your humble servant the opportunity to dance with the vision that is your daughter."

Alex frowned and glanced at Annalisse, who suddenly stood on her toes and kissed him on the cheek.

"He IS the guest of honor, Daddy," she whispered.

Alex forced his frown away and replaced it with a non-committal expression.

"Of course, milord," he replied as the music began. "You may have a dance with the lady, if she acquiesces..."

The Earl looked at Annalisse beseechingly and she curtsied, "I would be honored, milord."

The Earl needed no more encouragement and swept her away from her father before the giant might change his mind. Turning, Alex saw Marie standing, waiting for his return. Alex crossed to her and grasping her in his arms, swept her onto the dance floor.

***

Annalisse smiled at the Earl as he forced himself to breathe. She was too beautiful for words, he knew, but he would try, he would do his best, he had to do his best.

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," he confessed. "In this gown, your royal highness, there is no one who could hope to compare with your beauty or charm."

Annalisse blushed, enjoying the feel of his arms about her.

"You are a flatterer, milord," she replied, "and a wonderful dancer."

"I do not flatter, milady," he said, staring into her eyes. "I know that it is improper to speak to you in this way, milady, I know you must think me mad, but I have not been able to think of anything but you since we have arrived. I feel as if I have known you all of my life, milady, as if I have spent my entire life searching for you...I know I make no sense, I know that I speak too much and I speak like a fool, but I cannot lie to you, your highness. You are my every thought and my every wish. I beg you please to have mercy on your servant, please, allow me to speak with you."

Annalisse looked into his eyes, heard the sincerity of his voice. Could he be that good of an actor or was he feeling much of what she herself were feeling? Was he merely a flatterer or were their paths destined to join?

"You overwhelm me, milord," she replied in a whisper. "I will not lie to you anymore than you will lie to me. I believe you to be sincere, I believe you to be true, but you are too ardent...it frightens me."

"I apologize your highness," he whispered. "I am too ardent and I beg your forgiveness. I too am overwhelmed. From the moment I saw you, it was if the world did not exist."

"I too felt something, milord," she confessed. "But there are other considerations...for both of us."

"What do you mean, milady?"

"You have to conclude the treaty with my father and do it with all propriety," she stated. "You cannot risk scandal or anyone saying that you tried to win the heart of his daughter in order to save your country."

"I would never dishonor you in that way, your highness," he stammered. "The thought..."

She smiled at him, "I believe you...somehow, I know you."

He hesitated and smiled back at her as she continued.

"You must save your country, milord," she said softly. "Once that is done, then you may most certainly call on me..."

"May I, milady?" he responded, desperately trying to calm himself at the prospect.

"But I must warn you," she continued, "you will earn my father's enmity. He does not enjoy the idea of young men paying attention to his daughter...especially if she might welcome their attention."

The Earl smiled so radiantly that Annalisse had to laugh.

"I will do all that you say," he replied. "I will wait, for you, milady, I would wait forever and as to your father, I will wear him down. I will snivel and crawl and beg and plead and I will annoy him so much that he must relent or kill me for all the bother."

Annalisse smiled and shook her head, "Do not tempt him. Finish your mission, milord and then worry about other things..."

Anthony nodded his head. She was as wise as she was beautiful and she cared that he finished his mission, but more importantly, she was willing to let him call. He no longer wished to be a great man with a great reputation. He had a new goal in life and that was to be the best husband to the most beautiful woman in the world.

***

Pauline was surprised and confused. Happy, surprised and confused to be more accurate. This was the third dance they had danced together. She had no idea what it was that Heather had said to the Prince, but if Heather were ever being held captive by a dragon, Pauline in gratitude for this evening would slay the dragon and still feel that she owed her more than she could ever repay.

As the third song drew to a close, she could not contain her smile as she looked up at Jonathan who still had not released her hand.

"Pauline, I have heard you say that you love the garden here," he stated.

"It is the most beautiful garden in the world," she responded happily.

"Have you ever seen it in winter?" he asked.

"No, Jonathan, not really," she stated softly, uncertain as to what he was trying to say.

"Would you accompany me?" he asked. "I wish to show you something..."

He seemed so worried that she might say no, she could not imagine why.

"Of course," she stated softly.

Never releasing her hand, he led her from the floor, the young women standing about growing frustrated that he would not leave her side. Instead, they watched as the Prince led Lady Pauline out a small door at the end of the hall.

To Pauline's surprise, they were in a stairwell. She had no idea that there was a stairwell off of the ballroom, had never even noticed this door before. Jonathan led her up a set of stairs and upon reaching the landing, led her to the first room off the dark hallway. A lone guard stood at the end of the hallway, saluting as Jonathan passed him and opened the door, ushering Lady Pauline into the room and closing the door behind them.

The room was small and bathed in moonlight that streamed in through the windows. Glancing about she concluded that it might have been a storage room at one time, but now all it contained was a pair of chairs perched before the two enormous windows that made up the outer wall. Gently guiding her to the windows, Jonathan nodded for her to look out.

Below them, the ground was a soft, silvery blue color. Snow lay upon the ground and bushes that seemed to extend beyond the window in miles in every direction. The garden was bare of its leaves and flowers, but the moon glow gave it a beautiful, uniform look and along the paths, torches were lit, throwing a phantasm of light and shadow upon the trees and paths. Pauline gave a happy little gasp as she saw pairs of figures moving slowly about the paths as if in a dream, men and women in heavy cloaks, some walking, some wrapped in passionate embraces.

"It is beautiful," she whispered.

"Are you cold?" he asked. "There is no fireplace, we never use this room because there is no way to warm it..."

"Oh no," she replied happily. "I like the cold. I think the garden is more lovely now than at any other time I have seen it."

Turning to him, her eyes seemed to be filled with a flame and light that took his breath away.

"Thank you, Jonathan, oh thank you so much for sharing this with me..."

He looked at her and felt so unworthy of her, so wretched as his past came floating back into his mind.

"Pauline," he said softly, "I want to apologize to you. I have been an incredible fool..."

"No," she said, shaking her head, her voice firm. "You are no fool, Jonathan..."

"I have been a fool," he stated, looking at the ground. "I was searching for something that was right in front of me. I wanted something that seemed so far away and it was here all of the time." He looked up and could see that she did not understand him. "Pauline, it makes no difference, it does not matter...It will not matter if..." Drawing closer to her, he could still see her confusion. She was torn between asking and just letting him explain. "Pauline," he said, staring into her eyes. "Pauline, might you like me...just a little bit?"

Pauline was stunned by the question. How could he doubt how she felt? Suddenly, she felt the battle grow within her. She felt her natural shyness trying to stifle her words, but she could not stand the doubt that was in his voice. He had to know; she had to tell him no matter how much her shyness bade her to keep silent.

"Jonathan," she stammered, fighting her shyness to speak the words, "I like you. I like you very much..."

She felt his finger tips on her chin. His touch was so gentle, like the feathers of an angel brushing against your skin. Ever so gently, he lifted her face towards him and then the most wonderful thing happened. He kissed her.

Chapter 32

Anthony approached the King and offered him his daughter's hand. As Alex took it, he bowed deeply. Rising he smiled at Annalisse, an affectionate smile that she returned. Looking back to the King, he noted the scowl he wore, which made him smile all the more. He had been warned, indeed, he had been warned.

"Your most gracious majesty," he said. "May I congratulate you on having the most beautiful wife and the most beautiful daughter in the world."

Alex smiled, "Thank you, milord, I certainly think so."

"Her royal highness has told me that this dress holds many important memories for you and her majesty," continued Anthony. "I have never stolen anything from anyone and certainly, I would never steal anything from a King, but I must confess that I have stolen a memory of this dress, sire. Perhaps stolen it is too strong a word, but I beg your highness not to be angry with me if I say that as it is your favorite dress, it is also mine. Her highness has graced my memory by wearing it as she has graced the memories of all present."

Alex smiled broadly, "I too think she looks most enchanting. When her mother was crowned Queen, she wore that gown and no one ever looked more lovely..." Alex smiled back at the memory and then turned to see his wife speaking with some ladies. She was so beautiful, grew more so every day. "I wish I had a thousand lifetimes to spend with her..."

"As do I," murmured Anthony.

Annalisse blushed at the compliment as Alex stared at Marie, lost in his thoughts, never having heard a word.

***

It is odd, the things one thinks of at the most wonderful moment of their life. Pauline's entire body seemed to have gone into shock, unable to move or think or feel anything but the sensations that were pulsing through it, all of them originating from the Prince's lips upon her own. Still, a tiny portion of her mind was thinking, thinking logically perhaps, but in the most illogical way. The tiny portion was explaining to her that she would be quite happy if she were to die now. Life, quite frankly, could not get better than it was at this very moment so in a certain sense, death would be a blessing. It was a calm, cold, happy type of logic and as strange as it sounded it made the moment even more enjoyable.

Suddenly that thought was lost to an image of her as an old woman. She was old and seated beside a dull fire with a dull, fat man whom she knew to be her husband. He was old and balding and snoring a rumbling snore and she was thin and bent and satisfied. He would have been a good husband and she would have cared for him many years at the point she was seeing, but she would have always secretly escaped back to this moment, of her kissing the Prince, of this magical moment with the man she truly and sincerely loved. She would be faithful to her husband and kind to him, but her heart had been lost in this moment, no, not lost, but gladly given, with no regrets even though she knew that it could never be. She was no one for a Prince, the idea of it was so absurd and she was such a sensible girl that she could not bring herself to think beyond this kiss, or fantasize or dream in terms beyond this moment. It would be her theft, she had stolen a kiss from the most handsome man in the world, the kindest and gentlest soul she had ever met and it was her treasure, her secret treasure to keep for all time.

Across from her, Jonathan was shocked and amazed at the difference who you kissed made. He had kissed one of the most eligible women in the world, a beautiful Princess, a woman born to rule and had felt as if he were kissing the back of his own hand. He had never felt such nothingness before in his entire life and it had left him angry and hurt and depressed. At this moment, however, he could not describe or hope to describe how he felt. It wasn't pleasant, or good, it was not fantastic or magnificent, it was something so far beyond mere words that there were no words to describe it. It was coming home from a long journey amplified a million times, it was as if he had been connected to a great power and new life was surging through him, it was better than anything he had ever experienced in his life and he never, ever wanted it to end.

Finally, however, he forced himself to break the kiss and looking down at her, looking into her large eyes that opened when he removed his lips from hers so slowly and beautifully that he could not imagine not looking into them for the rest of his life.

His voice came out so softly, he was not sure that she could hear him, but he found himself unable to speak louder. It was like standing in Church during a high mass and being transported to silence by the sheer glory and solemnity of all that was about him.

"I like you, Pauline," he stated. "I like you very much and I pray that you like me too..."

"Oh, Jonathan, I like you so very much," she whispered, speaking as if in a dream.

She felt his arms wrap themselves around her and then the most wonderful thing happened. He kissed her again!

***

Albert sidled up to Marie and smiled as the Queen acknowledged him with a gentle touch on his arm.

"Your majesty," he said softly. "I do not see Jonathan."

Marie turned and scanned the room, unable to locate her son amongst the swirling figures.

"Oh dear..."

"He has been most brave," stated Albert. "Could we not create some pretext for him to leave the ball? The gossips have seen enough and why torture him, milady?"

"You make a good point," replied Marie. "He is probably hiding in his room above the stairs."

Gesturing towards one of the servants, she spoke quickly into the man's ear. The man bowed and began to make his way across the floor in search of the Prince.

Chapter 33

It was funny how the brain worked, thought Pauline. The little part of her brain that was thinking was angry with itself, very angry indeed. The first kiss had been paradise, of that there was no doubt, but it was so far below this one that it took more than a moment to truly understand what was so different. It was the arms, she finally concluded, yes the arms made all the difference. Before, he had kissed her and it was beyond wonderful, but now, he had her wrapped tightly in his arms and she, somehow, she had no idea of how or when, had wrapped her arms tightly about his neck and it just made the entire thing so much better. It was not just the arms, no, there was even more. She could feel the warmth of his body against her own and it were as if she were one large firework. It seemed that every nerve ending in her body was exploding and sparkling and wrapped in the most glorious light. Yes, if she had died before, she would have missed this and then she would have been furious. No, this was absolutely the best thing to ever happen to her, she told herself. If she died NOW, well then it was fine...

For his part, Jonathan had decided that he would never leave this room or use his arms for any other purpose but to hold her while he kissed her. There was no other reason to have arms, they served no other useful purpose that he could fathom. He had found his purpose in life, some men went their entire lives without discovering their purpose, but Jonathan had found his and this was it. He was to hold onto this woman, this beautiful, kind and forgiving woman with all of his strength for all of his life. The quandary of why God gave one arms was solved. So much for one of life's mysteries...

It was a long way off at first. It seemed miles away, so far away that it was almost impossible to hear but it seemed to grow louder with time. At first he thought it was the beating of his heart but no, eventually he realized someone was pounding vigorously on the door. He blinked and tried to glance at the door, which was ridiculous because the door was behind him. He was certain, however, it was a fist pounding upon the door and something else, a word or words...his name. He loved how she said his name, but she was not the one saying his name. Someone else was calling his name, why were they calling his name?

With the greatest reluctance that he had ever felt in his life, he broke the kiss and took a deep breath.

"PRINCE JONATHAN!" continued yelling the voice beyond the door.

He looked at Pauline, who appeared to have heard the voice for the first time. She started slightly, but he did not release her. Swallowing hard, he called over his shoulder.

"Yes?"

"Prince Jonathan," called the voice. "Are you in there?"

Jonathan nodded as he looked at Pauline. She blinked and smiled at him.

"I think you should answer him," she said softly. "He cannot see you nod..."

Jonathan blinked and stammered to her, "Yes, yes, right..." and then over his shoulder, "Yes, I am here."

"Your royal highness," stated the voice. "Your mother, the Queen needs to speak with you immediately."

Jonathan looked at the door with a hatred that he usually reserved for his birth father.

"NOW?"

"Yes, your highness, she requests you attend her now," replied the voice.

Jonathan looked at Pauline in despair, but she smiled up at him bravely. She understood and while perhaps it should have, it did not anger her. He could never anger her, even in this moment.

She had heard of things like this from Ellen. Ellen, of all people, to have taught her something so important, it seemed so odd. A man would trifle with a girl and then have a friend call him on a pretext so as to spare her feelings. Pauline swallowed hard, she understood. She should probably be angry at him and ashamed of herself, but she was neither. It was still the best birthday of her life.

Jonathan looked at her and misunderstood her brave face, misreading her thoughts completely.

"I must go," he whispered. "Will you wait for me?"

She would save him the embarrassment; she would be brave and noble.

"It is getting late, Jonathan," she said softly. "I must return to Lanclyn tomorrow. You go ahead, I understand. Go and see what your mother wants. It has been such a wonderful evening, thank you from the bottom of my heart for every moment of it." She could not contain her smile, "Thank you Jonathan...I will remember this birthday for the rest of my life. Thank you."

"Thank you Pauline," he replied, thinking that she understood. "Thank you for the most wonderful night of my life."

"I will wait until you leave," she said.

"Oh, oh of course," he nodded, thinking that he was protecting her reputation.

As he slid out the door, he hesitated, wishing only to embrace her again. The voice interrupted his thoughts.

"What should I tell your mother, milord?"

Jonathan opened the door, using his body to shield Pauline from the eyes of the messenger.

"I am coming," he stated, sliding out into the hallway.

Pauline waited a half an hour and then with her head held high, opened the door and descended the stairs. No one could ever take this memory from her; she would always have the memory of this night etched on her heart.

***

"He's dancing with her again," stated the King, feeling puzzled.

"They make a lovely couple," stated Albert.

"Do you think I should step in?" asked Alex, unsure of how he felt about the Earl dancing almost exclusively with his daughter. "He is the guest of honor, but I think he is beginning to take a liberty."

"He seems harmless, sire," stated Albert. "All they are doing is talking and dancing."

"That is how it starts, Albert," smiled Alex. "Certainly, you remember..."

"Stasha loves to dance," laughed Albert, "but I loved her long before I danced with her."

"I am not saying he loves her," stated Alex quickly. "I mean only that a dalliance can start that way..."

"Or a romance," replied Albert.

"I suppose," drawled Alex, his eyes narrowing. "How do you tell the difference?"

"Annalisse is an accomplished young woman," stated Albert casually. "Perhaps it would be best to allow her to tell the difference. I mean, sire, many men pay her compliments, I think she knows who is sincere and who is not..."

"But what if he sounds sincere and he is not," replied Alex. "I would snap him in two..."

"Other than in an opera, killing perspective suitors is not good for a King's reputation," interrupted Albert.

Ernest drew closer to the two men and smiled, "What are we looking at?"

"We are looking at Annalisse and the Earl dancing," replied Albert.

"She is very graceful," stated Ernest. "I taught her how to dance, you know..."

"Marie and Stasha taught her how to dance," replied Alex. "You taught her how to spit and throw rocks."

Ernest squinted, "It might be as you say, I cannot be certain."

"Alex is worried that she is dancing too much with the Earl," stated Albert.

"Is the song over?" asked Ernest.

"No," replied Alex.

"Then they cannot be dancing too much. You are supposed to dance to the end of the song."

"They have danced too many songs together," countered Alex.

"How many is too many?" asked Ernest.

"As many as they have danced," replied Alex, glaring at his brother, who merely smiled.

"Perhaps the fault lies in you," replied Ernest. "Perhaps you have not danced enough with your wife. I see her standing talking to your son. Should she not be dancing? Women like to dance and let us face facts, you should go out of your way to keep her pleased since you have so little to offer her."

Albert suppressed a laugh as Alex turned on Ernest.

"Everything I have is Marie's..."

"And what do you have?" asked Ernest. "You are large, clumsy and awkward. She has to do all of the work. The least you could do for her is dance with her..."

"I love to dance with her," began Alex. "We are not talking about..."

"What are you talking about?" smiled Marie, drawing closer.

"Alex wants to dance with you," stated Ernest. "He is too shy to ask you."

"I would love to dance with you," smiled Marie, taking his hand.

"I..." stammered Alex, looking at his brother in complete confusion.

"Remember not to trample her," stated Ernest. Turning to Albert, he smiled, "Did Annalisse request your assistance?"

"No," laughed Albert, "but I was giving it to her anyway."

"Was I able to assist you?" asked Ernest.

"For once, yes."

Ernest nodded his head sagely, "I am off to dance with my wife. If you require my further assistance, feel free to summon me..."

***

Upon Jonathan's arrival, Marie had drawn him aside and spoken to him in a confidential tone.

"Lord Narval has taken ill," she stated. "I wish for you to accompany him home."

"Home?" asked Jonathan, thinking of Pauline and hoping he might catch her before she retired. "Narval is almost an hour in each direction. I will miss the rest of the dancing..."

Marie smiled and nodded, "Exactly. I have never been more proud of you than I was tonight, my love. You silenced all of the naysayers. Your father and I could not be more pleased. Now go and bring his lordship home, you deserve to rest."

"But Mother," began Jonathan.

"Go, go," she whispered. "We will speak in the morning."

Jonathan kissed her cheek and headed out into the hallway to find Lord Narval. He understood that his mother wanted to protect him, was doing what she thought was best for him. He would speak to her and father in the morning. His mind was made up, he would beg them for permission to court Pauline.

Lord Narval stood at the end of the hallway, a tall, thin man with a gray complexion and huge black circles under his cavernous eyes. His gray hair was sparse and sticking up at odd angles.

"I thank you, milord, for your assistance," he bellowed, his voice so loud as to startle some of the people standing near the door.

"My pleasure, milord," replied Jonathan. "We will ride together in your coach and I will borrow a horse from your stables, if you will allow me too."

"Very well," replied his lordship as he headed slowly for the door, leaning heavily on Jonathan's arm. "We will need to leave the windows open in the coach, this damn flatulence..."

Jonathan rolled his eyes and then thought of Pauline. No, not even this could ruin this evening...

Chapter 34

Annalisse awoke at the discreet but urgent knocking of her father at her bedroom door. Rising, she drew her robe about her and opened the door.

"Daddy?" she asked with a yawn. "Daddy, it must be six o'clock in the morning..."

"I need to speak with you," stated Alex, slipping into the room.

Annalisse knew her father was an early riser, but to see him fully dressed and obviously wide awake at this hour suggested that he got little sleep and that he had something very specific upon his mind.

"Annalisse," he began, "I hate to wake you, but I need an answer to a question that you alone can answer."

Annalisse returned to her bed and removing her robe, slipped beneath the covers.

"I'm sorry Daddy, but when this interview is over, I am going back to sleep, I am tired..."

"Fine, fine, that is fine," replied Alex, drawing closer and hovering over her.

Annalisse lay under her covers, enjoying the warmth, her eyes closed for a moment and then, she opened them and looked up at him.

"Well, Daddy?" she asked.

"Well," began Alex. "Well, Annalisse, I want to ask you about the Earl."

"The Earl?' replied Annalisse, unsure of what it was he wished to know.

"Yes," replied Alex. "Annalisse, you are my daughter, my only daughter. I would be a poor father if I did not ask about the young men you were dancing with..."

"You have never asked about a young man I have danced with before," she countered.

"You have never danced with the same young man the entire evening," replied Alex.

"I danced with other men..." began Annalisse.

"You danced with Lord Randy and Lord Wilton both for one revolution upon the dance floor and then switched partners to dance with the Earl of Carria once again," stated Alex.

Annalisse tried not to show the guilt she felt at having tried to bluff him, "He is a very good dancer; that is all, Daddy."

"Lord Ergon is a very good dancer," stated Alex.

"Lord Ergon is in his seventies, Daddy and suffering from gout," replied Annalisse.

"Do you like him?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"He seems kind," she replied softly.

"He seems to like you very much," stated Alex with a slight frown. "Would you agree with that assessment?"

"I believe that he thinks I dance well," countered Annalisse.

Alex folded his arms across his chest and raised an eyebrow.

"What can I say, Daddy," she replied. "The Earl is a handsome man, a good dancer and a gentleman. I enjoy his company, I have done nothing wrong..."

"I am not accusing you," he stated. Slowly lowering himself onto the edge of her bed, he stated quietly, "I am trying to get used to the idea, Annalisse. I am trying to get used to the idea that you find men attractive, that you wish to enjoy their company, but frankly, it is not easy."

She smiled shyly at him, "Daddy, I do not wish to upset you, but I am a grown woman. I know I do not know everything there is to know about the world or about people, but you and Mama have raised me with some common sense and good values. I would never do anything to harm you or embarrass you intentionally..."

"I do not care about me, Annalisse," stated Alex softly. "I care about you. You will never embarrass me, I am so proud of you I could burst from it. I worry about a young man hurting your feelings."

Annalisse drew closer and threw her arms around him, "Daddy, if I never speak to a young man, I will never be hurt by one, but then I will never know if I can be loved by one either."

"Every young man I see loves you," smiled Alex, "or thinks he does." He placed his arm around her, "Annalisse, I do not know much about the Earl. I have heard many good things, which is nice, but I do not know him well. I cannot protect you..."

"I love you, Daddy," she said, hugging him. "You will not always be able to protect me. That does not make you a failure, it is life. I promise you with all my heart, I will be careful." Leaning back, she smiled at him, "It was just dancing, Daddy; that is all..."

Alex nodded and kissed her gently on the forehead.

"If he hurts my baby," he said with a smile, "he'll wish he had never been born..."

***

Mullins started out the back door of his home and suddenly heard a voice call out to him.

"Hey, Mullins!"

Mullins turned and saw his neighbor staring at him, an uncertain expression on his face.

"What is it Dalgar?'

Dalgar was short and stout, like Mullins, but he was bald with a fierce set of eyes set above a large nose. He waddled as he walked and he made his way toward Mullins and gave a short gesture with his arm.

"Come on, need to talk to you," he spat.

Mullins followed him into his own yard as he glanced up and around at the surrounding windows, drawing Mullins to the far side of his yard.

"I got something to tell you," he said, looking at his large, coarse hands.

"What is it?" asked Mullins, his patience wearing thinner.

"What time you come home normally?" he asked after a moment's hesitation.

"About six, I guess, maybe later," replied Mullins. "You need help with something?"

Dalgar seemed to be thinking about something, as if he were running something through his mind. Finally he spoke.

"Look here, can you meet me back here around two," he asked.

"Midday?" asked Mullins, not pleased with the thought.

"Yeah," he replied. "Got a surprise for my wife and I need some help with it. If you come here and stand right here and wait for me right here at two, I can have you back in your shop no later than two fifteen, promise."

"Can't you get someone else to help you?" asked Mullins.

"No, it's got to be you," replied Dalgar. "Promise me, you'll be here..."

Mullins shrugged, "What are neighbors for; fine I'll be here."

"One thing," replied Dalgar, "it's a surprise, see? So don't make any noise when you show up later, got it?"

Mullins shook his head, "Fine, fine, no noise. I'll see you at two..."

"Two o'clock," repeated Dalgar.

He watched Mullins leave the yard and head to work, only then glancing back up at his backyard window and seeing his wife looking down at him. She nodded approvingly and moved away from the window as Dalgar shook his head. Why the hell did he have to get in the middle of this? Damn women...

***

Jonathan appeared at the breakfast table almost in despair. He had checked to find Randy and Heather still in their rooms, finishing the last of their packing. Pauline had left at first light, Heather had reported. She was already headed back to Lanclyn, a thought that drove him to distraction.

It still gnawed at him that she might not find him acceptable. Did she leave to avoid telling him that she had thought over what had happened last night and because of his having pursued others, she wanted no part of him? He needed to see her, to speak to her, to tell her all.

He had spent half the night with Lord Narval thinking about all of these things and had finally been able to make good his escape at about four o'clock this morning. Racing back to Wharton, he had fallen into an exhausted slumber, rising at seven and finding that his love had eluded him. He had been careful not to mention anything to Randy or Heather, explaining that he had to go to breakfast with his parents and then tactfully retreating as Heather appeared to grow green at the mention of food.

Racing down to the private dining room, he was ecstatic to find his parents alone with Annalisse, quietly eating breakfast.

"Jonathan," smiled Marie as he leaned over her and kissed her. "I want to tell you how proud I was of you last night."

"Thank you, Mother," he said, sliding into his seat opposite Annalisse.

"We both are very proud of you," stated Alex. "I am sorry about the Princess Caroline, but I am certain that when you find the right woman, Jonathan, you will know."

"Father, I need to speak to you," stated Jonathan.

Alex raised an eyebrow, surprised by the urgency of his son's tone.

"I also thought that you showed great wisdom in the choice of your partner last night," continued Marie as she sipped her tea.

"Who did you choose to dance with?" asked Annalisse

"We know who you chose to dance with," countered Alex, favoring his daughter with a slight frown.

"I chose Lady Pauline," stated Jonathan excitedly.

"What a wonderful idea," smiled Annalisse. "She makes a wonderful substitute for Lady Heather..."

"Lady Pauline is not a substitute for anyone," snapped Jonathan angrily.

Annalisse looked at him, hurt by his harsh reaction to her comment.

"I'm sorry, Jonathan," she stated softly, a wounded expression on her face.

"Jonathan," said Marie, surprised by his outburst.

"I'm sorry, Annalisse," said Jonathan, rising and crossing to his sister, kneeling beside her and hugging her tightly. "I'm sorry Annalisse, please forgive me..."

"Jonathan, whatever is the matter?" asked Marie, glancing at Alex, who shrugged, having no idea as to the cause of his son's actions.

Standing, Jonathan spoke to Alex quickly.

"Father, I must speak to you, I must speak to you now. I know you and Albert wish for me to court a princess, I understand that there are diplomatic considerations and diplomatic worries, but Father, I do not wish to court a princess..."

"I know, Jonathan," stated Alex. "I know about Princess Caroline..."

"Not Princess Caroline, not any princess," stated Jonathan. "You know father I would do anything for you, you know I love you and Mother and Annalisse, but I have found who I wish to court and she is not a princess. Must she be a princess?"

"Who do you wish to court?" asked Annalisse, surprised and excited by the sudden news.

"You were on the verge of courting Princess Caroline just the other day," stated Marie, unsure of what Jonathan was asking. "Now you have someone else you wish to court?"

"I know, Mother, it sounds insane," replied Jonathan. "I never knew, she was there all along and I never knew how I felt about her and now, I know and I am afraid if I do not act, I will lose her."

"How romantic," smiled Annalisse.

Turning back to Alex, he asked again, "Father, must I court a princess?"

"Well, no," replied Alex, trying mightily to follow the course of the conversation. "I want you to be happy, Jonathan..."

"Who is she?" asked Marie.

Jonathan smiled at the thought of her.

"Lady Pauline," replied Jonathan.

He looked at the other three, surprised by their reactions. Alex squinted in thought as did Marie, while Annalisse looked up at him and seemed to ponder the idea for a moment.

The delay was on the verge of causing Jonathan to become upset when Annalisse's face broke into a wide smile and he saw a light shine in her eyes.

"Oh, Jonathan," she whispered, standing and hugging him, "she's perfect..."

Jonathan hugged her tightly certain that he had never loved her more.

"Lady Pauline?" asked Marie, still unable to grasp the idea.

"Of Lanclyn?" asked Alex.

"Yes, yes," smiled Jonathan, holding Annalisse.

"Little Pauline?" asked Marie for clarification. "Lady Heather's cousin?"

"Yes, little Pauline," he replied gleefully. "My little Pauline..."

"No," stated Alex firmly.

All three looked at him, surprised by the word.

"But Father," began Jonathan.

"No," stated Alex, shaking his head, "no, you would never be happy with her."

Jonathan looked at him, flabbergasted.

Alex offered him the slightest smile, "She will never share her ice cream with you..."

It took Jonathan a moment and then, he remembered the story. Racing to his father, he embraced him as he stood.

"Little Pauline," murmured Marie, a smile rising upon her face.

"Oh, Mama, she is perfect for him," smiled Annalisse, grabbing her mother about the waist as Marie rose also.

Crossing to Jonathan, Marie received a hug and she and the two children looked up at Alex.

"What must I do?" asked Jonathan.

Alex considered the question and then said, "Albert. We need to speak with Albert, but more importantly, we must speak with the young lady and gain her consent and her father's of course. Have you asked her?"

"No Father, I wanted to, but I did not think it wise until I had spoken to you and then to her father..."

Alex squinted in thought, "Sir Reginald of Lanclyn. A fine fellow, but a very no nonsense type of man, Jonathan. If you trifle with his daughter..."

"I would never!" replied Jonathan, horrified at the thought.

"He will want some answers from you," stated Alex calmly. "I know him and the idea that you wish to court his daughter so soon after almost courting the princess will leave him suspicious of you."

"Perhaps we could send him a note," suggested Marie.

"A capital suggestion," smiled Alex. "Let us get Albert and compose a note and then, my son, you will have to go and do the hard work of impressing her father."

"I would do anything for her," stated Jonathan.

"I hope so," replied Alex. "Either way, we will find out..."

Chapter 35

Pauline's father, Sir Reginald of Lanclyn was a farmer, soldier and avid reader. He was a solid looking man in his late forties, of average height and strong build. His face was square and covered with a rich beard where gray and brown fought for dominance, always neatly trimmed and close cropped. His eyes were blue-gray and his demeanor stern, but friendly.

As a young man, he had fought with King Joseph and King Alex in turn and had raised and supplied a regiment of his own in the two Vesek wars. Rewarded for valor on several occasions, his was the squire of an estate near the town of Lanclyn. It was a working farm and castle, smaller than many but profitable and well kept.

Sir Reginald had taken over the estate upon his father's death. His father, a pleasant man but poor manager, had suffered several financial setbacks and his farming operation was barely making enough to support Reginald and his family when he took over its operation and care. With hard work and determination, he had remade the entire village into a prosperous enterprise. If not as wealthy as many knights he was reasonably well to do and he was known both for his fairness and generosity.

His wife, Lady Esther, was a solidly built woman with brown hair and hazel eyes. She was devout, friendly and concerned with her family and her home. She socialized with a small group of friends and watched over her daughter, her only child. While Pauline had a passing resemblance to her mother, Esther's figure had been appointed along more generous lines than her smaller built daughter.

Esther and Reginald had always been careful to encourage their only daughter, making sure that Pauline was not overwhelmed by her natural shyness. Gently and patiently, they had given her increased duties and responsibilities as she had matured, making certain that she was able to handle multiple tasks and duties. They were always watchful to make sure that Pauline spoke her mind and demanded her just due. It was a relief to them both that despite her bashful nature, Pauline had always had the courage and fortitude to speak out when circumstances required it. Both Esther and Reginald had come to trust in their daughter's judgment and were proud of her compassion and never failing common sense.

When Pauline had arrived home that morning, the three of them had brunched together in delayed celebration of her birthday. Her parents had asked her all sorts of questions regarding her trip, which Pauline answered truthfully. She tactfully, however, never alluded to the Prince or the ball other than to thank her mother for her new dress and to say that she had had the most wonderful time. She also told them of how much she had missed them both.

Lingering over their meal, the three had already enjoyed each other's company well past the time for their regular noon day meal when Sir Reginald arose.

"I am sorry, my dears," he stated, "but I have some figures to attend too; I will be in my study."

Kissing his wife and daughter, he left the dining room and made his way down the hall to his study. He had been in the study only a short while when his maid servant, Patti, entered with the oddest expression on her face.

"Sorry to bother you sir," she began, glancing back over her shoulder. "The Prince is here."

Reginald looked up from his work and squinted at her as if she had lost her mind.

"What Prince?"

"The royal Prince, Prince Jonathan, King Alex' son," she replied.

"Here?" asked Reginald. "What is he doing here?"

"He asked to speak to you," replied Patti. "Don't know what he's doing here, he asked to speak with you is all..."

Reginald rose, "Where is he?"

"Out in the hall, sir," replied Patti, drawing closer and confessing, "I didn't know what to do with him."

Reginald stepped around his desk, what in the world would the Prince want with him?

"Well, send him in," stated Reginald.

Patti nodded and retreated out the door. A moment later, she reappeared, a handsome young man in a fine black ensemble following gracefully behind her.

"Sir Reginald," state Patti, her voice slightly louder than normal, "Jonathan, Prince of Zambelia."

With a curtsey, she drew back and out the door, her eyes glancing up at the Prince as she made her exit. Reginald bowed.

"Your royal highness, I am honored..."

Jonathan offered Reginald a slight bow, an enormous smile set upon his handsome features.

"Please, Sir Reginald," he said, advancing and clasping the older man's hand in his own, "it is a pleasure to meet you sir."

Sir Reginald did not show his surprise at the Prince's greeting. What could he possibly want here, he wondered? Perhaps he was lost, or had been sent to deliver a message from his father. What would the King want?

"Might I offer you some wine, your highness?" asked Reginald.

"No, no nothing," replied Jonathan. "Thank you."

The two men stood examining each other for a moment.

"I mean no disrespect, your highness," stated Reginald, unsure of how to proceed, "but I must confess that I am surprised to see you here. In truth, milord, I do not often have royal visitors, in fact, I cannot remember ever having a royal visitor. If it is not too forward, might I ask why you have graced us with your presence?"

Jonathan nodded slightly and took a deep breath.

"I have come, Sir Reginald," he began, "to ask you for a favor...for a gift of great value."

Reginald scowled, "A gift, milord? Whatever gift I might have is yours, of course, but I cannot imagine possessing anything that would interest your highness..."

"A most precious gift," stated Jonathan, thinking of Pauline with a smile before regaining his composure. Summoning his courage, Jonathan cleared his throat and stated firmly, "I would like to ask your permission, milord...to receive your blessing...to court your daughter."

Reginald stared at him a moment, his face betraying no emotion. What in the hell was he talking about? Court whose daughter?

"What?" he asked, forgetting protocol completely.

"I would like your permission to court your daughter, milord," stated Jonathan again, his voice firm, his eyes gazing respectfully at Reginald.

Reginald frowned as he took in the words. Court my daughter, he thought, he must think I am someone else. I have never even heard Pauline speak of the Prince except to say that Heather and he were good friends...

"My daughter is Lady Pauline of Lanclyn," stated Reginald for clarification. "Are you sure you are not mistaken?"

Jonathan blinked, taking a moment to regroup.

"Yes, I am quite certain, milord," he stated. "Lady Pauline of Lanclyn, yes..."

Reginald's scowl deepened, "What is this, milord? I had heard just a short time ago that you were courting a Princess from Albria...I am certain that my wife stated that very fact to me just the other day..."

"No, milord, I was entertaining a Princess, Princess Caroline of Albria," stated Jonathan, feeling uneasy that this was not going well. "I was her host recently at my estate, Angelrod. She left to return to Albria. Your daughter was in attendance, she and the Lady Heather were also my guests..."

"And now you wish to court my daughter," asked Reginald, doing his best to keep up with the chain of events.

"Very much so, with your permission, yes, milord," replied Jonathan earnestly.

Reginald pursed his lips, "Will you excuse me, milord?"

"Of course," replied Jonathan.

Reginald marched to the study door and opened it, finding Patti standing in the hall whispering with one of the other servants about their unexpected guest.

"Patti," snapped Reginald. "Go and get Pauline, if you please."

"At once, sir," stated Patti, setting off quickly down the hall.

Returning to Jonathan, Reginald looked him up and down, his expression almost hostile.

"Does your father know you are here, milord?" he asked finally.

Jonathan produced a pouch from his side and reaching into it, took out a scroll, handing it to Reginald.

"It is from my father, on behalf of both himself and my mother," stated Jonathan. "I assure you that I have spoken to them about my wishes and happily, they both fully support my desire, milord."

Reginald took the scroll and scrutinized the wax seal, recognizing the King's insignia. Opening it, he had begun to read it when he heard a gentle knock at the door and Pauline entered. Drawing closer, she at first did not notice Jonathan and then her eyes grew wide as she realized who was in the room with her father.

Pauline blushed as she stared at him, what was he doing here? Why was he talking to her father? Did he tell him that he had kissed her? No, no, why would he do that? What was he doing here?

"Pauline," said Jonathan, his voice so soft and warm that it made her smile despite her reservations.

"Jonathan," she whispered in reply before looking at her father, who had not heard either of them as he stood scrutinizing the letter.

Looking down at the floor, she said in a louder voice, "You wanted to see me, Papa?"

Reginald drew closer to her, "Pauline, do you know who this is?"

Pauline glanced at Jonathan and then back at the floor, "Yes, Papa, it is his royal highness, Prince Jonathan."

Reginald nodded, "And do you know why he is here?"

Pauline tried not to appear uneasy, but her father seemed to be questioning her as if he were an attorney bent on discovering some dark truth. The idea that she had kissed the Prince remained foremost in her mind as the reason for this interrogation.

Pauline glanced at Jonathan again and then returned her stare to the floor. Why would he come and tell her father that he had kissed her? What possible purpose would that serve?

"No, Papa," she stated finally, "I confess that I do not know why the Prince is here."

"You have no idea?" asked Reginald, unable to hide his surprise.

Pauline glanced up at him. What had Jonathan said to him? Why was he so surprised by her answer?

"No, Papa..."

Reginald turned to look at Jonathan.

"Perhaps you would like to tell her why you are here, milord," he stated. "I do not seem to be the only one surprised by your visit."

Jonathan nodded, "I suppose I should not be surprised at your reaction, nor your daughter's, milord." Turning to Pauline, he stated quietly, "Pauline, I have come to ask your father's permission to court you."

Pauline looked from one to the other, her eyes growing larger until her gaze finally resting on Jonathan.

"Oh, Jonathan," she stated, "what do you mean?"

"I would like to court you," stated Jonathan. "If you will allow it and of course, if your father will allow it..."

She looked at him, torn between the love she felt for him and the duty she felt towards him.

"Jonathan, I am not a princess..." she whispered.

"You are more precious to me than any princess who has ever lived," stated Jonathan. "Please Pauline..."

"You had no idea that the Prince was here to ask me about courting you?" asked Reginald. He trusted Pauline, had never had a reason not to trust her. Glancing at Jonathan he could tell that the young man was sincere, which made her statement all the more confusing to him.

"No, Papa," she replied, on the verge of tears. "I did not know..."

"Would you like to court the Prince?" asked Reginald softly.

Pauline stared at the floor, feeling naked and exposed. She loved him, she wanted to say it, but was so afraid that her words would sound foolish that she could say nothing. How could this be happening? She felt dizzy and closing her eyes, nodded her head.

"Yes?" asked Reginald, stepping closer and gently taking her arm to support her.

"Yes, Papa," she whispered, trying desperately to speak and finding it difficult to project her voice beyond a whisper.

Reginald looked at Jonathan and saw the absolute happiness that seemed to radiate from the young man's face upon hearing his daughter's words. Glancing back at his daughter, he maneuvered her to a chair as she seemed on the verge of fainting.

"Are you sure, Pauline?" asked Reginald again.

Pauline merely nodded her consent.

Turning to Jonathan, Reginald pursed his lips and squinted. This did not seem right somehow, but he was at a loss as to what was wrong.

"What has been going on here, milord?" he asked bluntly. "I must confess that I have never heard my daughter speak of you as more than a friend of her cousin's and now you stand before me asking me for permission to court her. I want the truth, milord..."

Jonathan nodded, "I understand that this all must be very sudden, milord...both for you and for your daughter. I only hope that I can explain all that has happened to your satisfaction. Your daughter has been, through her attendance on her cousin, the Lady Heather, present several times at both my estate at Angelrod and of course, at Wharton. During her visits, we have had the opportunity to speak and I have come to learn about her, her ideas and her attitudes and about her generous and kind nature. I found myself attracted to her many wonderful qualities and upon mature reflection, milord...I have come to the conclusion that I have never admired or respected anyone as much as I do your daughter. Pauline is the noblest woman, the kindest and gentlest soul and the most considerate person I have ever known. Last night, at the ball, I tried in a very clumsy way to express to her both my admiration and the feelings that I have found in my heart for her. Unfortunately, before I could finish explaining myself, I was called away to attend my mother and assist her with someone whom had taken ill. Upon returning this morning to Wharton, for I spent the night primarily at the home of the invalid, I went to my parents and asked their permission to court your daughter."

Reginald stared at him and then looked down at the scroll in his hand. He had not finished reading it, interrupted as it were by Pauline's arrival. Glancing at the Prince, he returned his attention to the document.

" **To His Lordship, Sir Reginald of Lanclyn,**

Greetings,

I pray, milord, that this missive finds you and your family in good health.

I am writing to you on behalf of my wife, the Queen and at the request of my son, Prince Jonathan, in order to convey our happiness at his request to court your daughter, the Lady Pauline of Lanclyn. Having had the opportunity to meet the young lady on several occasions we cannot help but be pleased at this development. Our entire family finds her a young woman of such accomplishments and character as to agree with the Prince that she is an excellent choice of companion and we heartily congratulate our son and her ladyship on this wonderful new development.

You will be, no doubt, as taken unawares as her majesty and I by this event and I pray that you and your good lady wife will join us for a private dinner at Wharton this evening to discuss all that is happening and extend to our children our happy consent for their future happiness.

Looking forward to greeting you and your family, I am,

Alex, King of Zambelia

Reginald stared at the document a moment more and then moved to his desk, grabbing a large bell that sat there and gave it a sharp ring. In an instant, Patti had reentered the room and curtsied.

"Patti, get the Lady Pauline some water if you will and then come and stay with her until I have fetched her mother."

"Yes, sir," she replied, moving quickly out into the hallway and returning a moment later with a glass and pitcher.

Pouring the water, she gave it anxiously to Pauline and stood beside her, her expression bewildered and suspicious of Jonathan. Patti had known Pauline since she were a young child and was always somewhat protective of Sir Reginald and Lady Esther's daughter.

"If you will excuse me, milord," stated Reginald, "I will not be a moment."

Jonathan watched him as he withdrew and then took a step towards Pauline, who sat with her eyes closed and her hands neatly folded in her lap.

"Are you ill, Pauline?" he asked gently.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. He was surprised to find tears in her eyes as she looked down at the floor and spoke in a soft voice.

"I am overwhelmed, Jonathan," she whispered. "I do not know what to think, or what to do...I am completely overwhelmed..."

***

"The who wants WHAT?" asked Lady Esther, stunned by her husband's announcement.

"The Prince wants to court our daughter," repeated Reginald, ignoring the servants who were clustered near the door, in no way attempting to hide the fact that they were eavesdropping upon the conversation and talking amongst themselves excitedly.

Lady Esther put the pot she had been cooking in down and shook her head, "Our Pauline. He wants to court OUR Pauline."

"Apparently yes," stated Reginald.

Lady Esther shook her head, "He was supposed to be courting the Princess Caroline of Albria. Everyone has been talking about it for the last month, they were practically engaged!"

"Gossip can be wrong," stated Reginald. "Have you ever heard Pauline speak of him in such a way?"

"Pauline never mentioned him other than to say he was kind and noble and handsome," stated Esther suspiciously. "How could it be? Heather said nothing and Ellen said nothing. Now Heather can keep a secret, but Ellen prattles on and she never said a word. Besides, Pauline has never lied to me or kept a secret from me..."

"She seems as surprised as I was," stated Reginald. "When I asked her if she would like to court him, she said yes. Perhaps she said nothing, hoping she would not trouble us with her feelings in case they were not reciprocated. Did not Ellen say that the Prince was interested in her at one time?"

"Yes, when they went on the quest with him to rescue that woman. Heather said as much as well," replied Esther. "What young man was not after Ellen? If Ellen had not married that Wilton, I think the Prince might have asked her to court him, at least that was the opinion at the time. Now he wants to court Pauline..."

"Read the King's message," said Reginald, handing her the scroll.

Esther eyed the paper with suspicion and then read it slowly and carefully. Handing it back to her husband, her eyes narrowed in thought.

"His majesty seems please by this, doesn't he?"

"And surprised as well," stated Reginald. "What do you think, my dear?"

Esther considered it. She had gotten up today with the idea of seeing that pies were made and that a spare room on the far side of the castle was stripped and cleaned properly. Now she was supposed to pack and go to Wharton to discuss the possibility of her daughter being allowed to court the Prince. Looking up at Reginald she saw a bemused look on his face.

"What are you smirking at?" she asked softly.

"I'm glad to know that I'm not the only one who thinks the world's turned upside down..."

***

Lady Esther and Sir Reginald entered the room and found Jonathan standing beside Pauline, hovering near her, obvious concern written upon his face. Pauline sat, looking composed, but somewhat sad while Patti stood, apparently ready to get between the two young people should she be called upon to do so. She nodded to Pauline's parents, her expression firm and correct.

"They've been here the whole time, sir, and nothing improper," she stated.

"He's a Prince, Patti, I appreciate your concern but I doubt he would do anything improper," stated Reginald, shaking his head. "You may go; her ladyship and I will keep an eye on them..." Turning to Jonathan, he took Lady Esther's hand. "May I present my wife, the Lady Esther; Prince Jonathan of Zambelia."

Jonathan bowed as the lady curtsied, "Please, milady, rise. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"As it is you, milord," stated Lady Esther. "My husband has told me of the reason for your visit..." She glanced down at Pauline who sat quietly, glancing up at her mother, her eyes sad. "Pauline, are you all right?"

"I am fine, Mama, just a little confused," she replied softly.

"Why, my love?" asked Lady Esther gently.

"I do not know what to do," her daughter replied.

Gesturing Jonathan to a chair, Lady Esther took a seat beside her daughter.

"What is it that you wish to do, Pauline?" she asked gently.

"I care very deeply for the Prince," confessed Pauline, looking at her hands as she spoke. "All I have ever wanted for him is to be happy..."

"I understand," stated her mother.

"No, Mama, you do not," she replied miserably. "He wishes to court me, Mama. I am not a princess, I am not important... The people at court will be angry with him for not choosing someone else..."

"Pauline," interrupted Jonathan. "Pauline, your father holds my father's letter in his hand. My father is overjoyed that I am here asking for your father's permission; my mother is as well. I only wish that you could have seen the look on Annalisse's face when I told them."

Pauline looked up at him, trying to hold back her tears.

Jonathan smiled down at her, "She asked who it was that I wished to court and I said the Lady Pauline and she smiled so beautifully and said, "Oh Jonathan, she's perfect..."

"Your sister said that?" whispered Pauline.

"Yes," he smiled, sliding out of the chair and kneeling before her. "Please, if you do not believe me, read the letter my father sent to your parents, it can leave you with no doubts as to how they feel."

Glancing up at her father, her tears began to run silently down her face. Her father handed her the letter as Jonathan handed her his handkerchief. Pauline accepted both in silence and dabbing at her eyes, read the King's letter slowly and thoughtfully.

"Pauline, can you have any doubt?" asked Jonathan when she was finished.

Pauline looked at him and offered him a faint smile.

"Your father and mother are very generous, Jonathan," she said softly, "but you must think of the court. What will they say? You, the Prince and future King courting the daughter of a knight? Think of the other kingdoms...of what Lord Albert will say..." the tears welled up in her eyes once again. "Jonathan, I want more than anything in the world for you to be happy."

"No matter whom I court, some will be dissatisfied," admitted Jonathan. "I do not care who is dissatisfied, as long as it is not you or your parents. Pauline, I understand that this must seem very sudden and somewhat frightening to you, but you did say that you would like your father to allow me to court you. You must have some feelings for me..."

"Of course I do," she stated quickly. "I want your happiness, Jonathan..."

"I want you to be happy as well, Pauline," he stated softly. "I want that more than anything in the world. As for the court, I have had to deal with them ever since I came here as a child. Many of them objected to my mother, to my sister and to me..." Rising, he looked down upon her, swallowing hard, "I cannot lie to you, Pauline, I am sorry, but I will never lie to you...Some will be displeased, some will say hurtful things and I know that I cannot prevent their hurtful words, for that I am truly sorry but I will do all that I can to make you happy, Pauline..."

Pauline smiled at him, "I wish to make you happy, Jonathan. I wish to make you happy more than anything in the world..."

Jonathan looked up at Sir Reginald and then at Lady Esther. Lady Esther nodded to her husband, who grimaced. Rising, he moved to his desk and rang the bell once again. Patti reappeared immediately.

"Patti, go and begin packing for the entire family. We are taking a trip to Wharton...today."

Chapter 36

Ernest looked at the paper in his hand, then at the man standing before him and then back at the paper. Frowning, he called one of his guards over and instructed them to get his wife and hurry back as soon as possible. Gesturing for the man to follow him, he led him from the main entrance foyer into the library and offered him a seat.

"If I am reading this note correctly, you are a spy," stated Ernest, giving the man a hard look.

"For the King of Darma, yes, milord," smiled the man.

"Your name is Ragar," stated Ernest.

"That is the name I am using, yes milord," replied the man.

"And the Glorious One sent you here to tell me that you are a spy," continued Ernest.

"That's it, milord, that's it exactly," Ragar replied, smiling at him as if he had just told him that he had won a prize.

Donna entered the room with a look of concern upon her face.

Walking toward Ernest, she frowned, "The guard said it was important..."

Turning, she noticed their guest and gave a slight start.

"Morris?"

"Hello, Lady Donna," smiled Ragar.

"He says his name is Ragar," stated Ernest. "Do you know him?"

Donna frowned, "His name is Morris and someone has converted him."

"Converted him?" asked Ernest.

"Changed his appearance," explained Donna.

"The Glorious One," stated Morris/Ragar. "He sent me here to confess my mission to your husband and to let him know that I will be acting as a double agent for him."

Ernest handed her the note and waited for her to finish reading it.

"What is this about?" asked Donna, squinting in thought.

"I am not certain, milady," replied Ragar. "The Glorious One, however, instructed me to inform you that he while he could not change the outcome, he had promised to do all that he could and that I am part of his fulfilling that promise."

Donna's expression changed to one of alarm, "Did he say in what manner?"

"No, milady," stated Ragar. "In fact, my instructions have been rather limited. I am to go to the Lord Parker and offer him money on behalf of the King of Darma. My mission is to turn him against the King, your brother in law."

Ernest stood before him, "I will have you arrested as a spy and for treason if you act in any manner against my brother..."

"I am afraid if I do not, the real spy will have to do it and then you will lose the benefit of having a double spy," stated Ragar. "I am sorry, milord, it is what the Glorious One has instructed me to do."

Ernest looked at Donna, his confusion obvious, "Am I supposed to let him go and plot against my brother?"

Donna nodded, "I know it seems strange, or wrong, or insane, but if the Glorious One has ordered it, there is a greater purpose to it, my love."

Rising, Ragar smiled at Ernest, "I will send reports once a week on my progress. I will also copy you on my reports to the King of Darma and let you know what movements I am making before I make them. Is there anything else you require?"

Ernest shook his head, "I suppose not..."

"It was nice to see you, Donna," smiled Ragar. "I am sorry, but I cannot stay long, I have to get to Lord Parker's estate soon or I will miss an important opportunity, what it is, I have no idea, but that is what the Glorious One told me."

"Very well, Morris, go ahead," stated Donna.

The man swept her a low bow and disappeared out the door.

"Who is Morris and how do you know him?" asked Ernest.

"Morris is a Malefactor," stated Donna.

"A criminal," replied Ernest.

"Yes and no," replied Donna. "He is not a malefactor as you are thinking of it. A Malefactor in the craft is one who is being punished for the misuse of his powers. Morris did something foolish once and caused several deaths. As a Malefactor, he is forced to do good works until he creates the balance that he destroyed."

"So he has magic," replied Ernest.

"No, Malefactors are stripped of their magic," stated Donna. "They have a sorcerer who acts as their overseer. If your crimes are particularly hideous, you are assigned to work for the Glorious One."

"Wonderful," stated Ernest sarcastically. "We have a particularly hideous double agent who has no idea of why he is being asked to do what he is supposed to do and has no idea of what he is doing. I am lost, my love, how is this helpful to me and how does this allow the Glorious One to keep his promise? What promise is he talking about?"

Donna shook her head, "Ernest, my love, I cannot tell you. All I can say is that he is trying to help you and to save me..."

Donna sat down and began to cry. Ernest was at her side in an instant, wrapping her in his arms.

"My love, whatever is the matter?"

Donna shook her head, "Ernest, we both must trust him. Even if we do, however, there are no guarantees."

"Guarantees about what?" asked Ernest, thoroughly confused.

"We must be ready for anything," sobbed Donna. "It is all that we can do..."

***

The carriage ride to Wharton began in silence, Esther seated beside Pauline, Reginald across from the two of them. Jonathan had rushed back to announce to the King and Queen that they would be receiving guests, leaving Pauline with great reluctance. Jonathan was still unsure if Pauline wished to be courted by him, acknowledging to himself that her doubts were both reasonable and undeniable. As Jonathan went to rally his family Pauline sat with hers in the coach and listened to the silence.

The entire day had stunned her, had surprised her as nothing in her life had surprised her, but being Pauline, she immediately began to think of how it was affecting those closest to her. She could tell in her parents silence many things, their fears, their happiness, their confusion and their worries. Her parents had always wished for her to speak her mind and now she found that it was the most important time for her to do so. It might not be comfortable, but it had to be done.

Clearing her throat, she took a deep breath and stated simply, "I love him."

Both of her parents started at the sudden announcement.

"What?" asked her Father.

"I love him, Papa," she repeated, staring at the floor and trying to calm her nerves. "I am sorry, I know that perhaps I should have made my feelings known before, but I could see no purpose in doing so. I never dreamed that my feelings might be reciprocated, at least until last night and even then..." She took a deep breath again.

"What happened last night?" asked her mother, curiosity and concern both obvious in her tone.

"I...I had asked Heather for a favor," stated Pauline, turning pink with embarrassment. "Since it was my birthday, I asked her if she might ask the Prince to dance with me...He always dances with her and I thought it would be a pleasant thing to do on my birthday...he's a graceful dancer..."

Pauline did not notice her parents exchange quizzical looks with one another.

"As I said, he is a very graceful dancer and I like to dance and I thought it would be a wonderful birthday gift, something I could remember..." she stated quickly, trying to remain composed. "Anyway, she told him that it was my birthday and he asked me to dance with him, the first dance."

"The first dance?" asked Lady Esther, unable to contain her surprise.

Pauline nodded, "I thought he asked me to dance the first dance because it was my birthday and because Heather was incapacitated...they usually dance the first dance because he does not like to raise anyone's hopes...I just thought he was being kind to me..." she took another deep breath. "After we dance one danced, he asked me to dance the next and then another and then he asked me to view the gardens from a room off the ballroom...I had told him once how I love the gardens at Wharton, they are very beautiful..."

She glanced up at her father, but could not read the expression on his face. Was he angry? Disappointed? Speak, she ordered herself; tell them everything so that they can understand.

"We went and looked at the garden and it was the most beautiful sight I have ever seen," she stated, forcing herself to slow down as she spoke. "While we were looking at the garden, he told me he liked me and asked if I might like him as well and I told him I did..."

"You told him you liked him, Pauline?" asked Sir Reginald.

"I am sorry, Papa," she stated softly. "I did not mean to do anything wrong...I hope I did not embarrass you...I could not lie to him, Papa, I just could not..."

"I am just surprised," interrupted Sir Reginald. "I am not angry with you, Pauline, please know that...it is just, I know how shy you are and I would have never guessed in a thousand years..."

"What happened next?" interrupted Lady Esther, shooting a glance at her husband.

"Then he kissed me," stated Pauline, staring at the floor.

"He kissed you?" they asked in unison, staring at one another in surprise.

"Yes...we kissed," she confessed, torn between her embarrassment and the beautiful memory of that moment. "I felt...I felt like I was in a dream and I was so happy...I am sorry if I have embarrassed you or if I did something wrong...I have no wish to embarrass you, but...I love him."

The occupants each sat for a time lost in their thoughts until Lady Esther finally spoke.

"It will not be easy, Pauline," she stated finally. "People can be cruel, my dear and you are sensitive..."

"I know what I am, Mama," stated Pauline. "People will have much to say about his asking to court me...I will not be what they expect...he is so handsome and I am not beautiful..."

"Nonsense," snapped Sir Reginald defensively.

Pauline looked up at him and smiled, "Thank you, Papa. Thank you...but I know what I am and I know what I am not. Heather is witty and intelligent and Ellen is beautiful and has the men all falling about her and I...I am plain and sensible. I have been plain and sensible all of my life. I don't mind it, it is who I am and I know now that Jonathan somehow cares for me because of it...I can be sensible in all things but this...I cannot be sensible in this, I am afraid, which is why I need you both more than ever. I love him and I want to make him happy because when he is near me, I am happier than anyone has a right to be. It is not just because he is handsome, or kind or generous...he is a good man, Mama...he is good like Papa and true and strong...I do not know if I can be sensible when I am near him...please help me."

Esther took her daughter into her arms and held her close, "My love, of course we will help you. You are our life, you know that; we would do anything for you and that is why we are upset. We are not upset with you for falling in love; it is what we had hoped for and prayed that you might do. Our fear is that we won't be able to defend you from the cruel words of some of those at court. Pauline, your father and I have never been court people; how can we guide you? We do not know the Prince, not very well, but my love, we trust your judgment. I have no doubt he is who you say he is, but he does present many added problems. Not him, mind you, I speak no ill of him, he seems just what you say he is; I speak of his position, my dear. In truth, I just wish he were not a prince...isn't that silly; a mother wishing her daughter not marry a prince..." Esther swiped at the tears in her eyes and then kissed her daughter tenderly upon the forehead and hugged her close.

"This is nonsense," stated Sir Reginald, taking Pauline and Esther by the hands. "Pauline, you are good enough for any prince, the court be damned! As for helping you, you know that we will do all that we can and, and as far as you embarrassing us, well that is just more nonsense!" Reginald huffed, "A man kissed you, well, a man kissed you. You are an attractive young woman and why wouldn't a man kiss you? I supposed it had to happen sometime and as long as you wished him to do it and he was a gentleman...well, no more kissing, not now...good God, what the hell am I talking about?"

The two women laughed as Reginald puffed and huffed, trying to gather himself once more.

"We will speak to the King and Queen," stated Sir Reginald with a firm voice. "If they are as favorably disposed to the idea as he seems to think, well, we will make sure that all that can be done is done, that is all...that is all..."

Slowly, Reginald leaned over and embraced his wife and daughter, kissing them both in turn on the forehead. He would do anything for his family, anything at all. It would be alright, he would see to that, he would always see to that for his little girl...

***

Anthony sealed the scroll and placed it in the tube, sealing it with some wax and stamping it with his ring. Handing it to the messenger, he looked at him thoughtfully.

"Get this to the Duke immediately and do not return without his reply," stated Anthony.

The messenger bowed and withdrew, leaving Anthony alone with his thoughts. He had done it, he had accomplished the treaty, had saved Gronolo and had served his lord, the Duke more brilliantly than ever before. Taking a seat on his bed, he shook his head; somehow none of it mattered. Oh, it was wonderful that the country was saved and the applause he would receive would be pleasant, who, after all, does not like being acknowledged? But it was no longer what motivated him, what drove him. A knock at the door startled him from his revelries.

"Come in," he called out.

Thomas entered and took a seat beside him on the bed.

"Have you sent the treaty off to the Duke?" he asked.

"Yes," replied Anthony. "The messenger just left."

"The entire duchy has you to thank for its survival," smiled Thomas. "The sky will be the limit, my boy, the Duke will raise you higher..."

"I have no wish for acclaim," stated Anthony softly. "I have also included a request with the treaty. I have begged the Duke to allow me to stay and be the ambassador to the King of Zambelia's court."

Thomas could not contain his shock at the words he was hearing.

"What do you mean? You? An Ambassador? You are the Duke's most trusted courtier, his right hand man and you wish to be an ambassador? You love Gronolo, you love your home, what in the name of heaven would cause you to seek a foreign appointment?"

"In the name of heaven, I have found an angel," smiled Anthony.

"The Princess?" asked Thomas. "You must be daft...The King would never let her marry an ambassador from a minor nation...he won't let you court his daughter..." Thomas rose, staring at his friend in astonishment. "I thought he was going to have you thrown out of the country for dancing with her...what are you thinking?"

"I am not thinking," laughed Anthony. "I am feeling, my friend. She has affected me unlike anyone or anything has ever done and I can no more understand it than I can fight against it. I want to be near her, Thomas. I do not care if the King has me drawn and quartered; I am like a moth drawn to a flame..."

Thomas frowned and sat back down. After a time, he spoke.

"You'll need an assistant," he grumbled.

"An assistant ambassador?" asked Anthony.

"You know what I mean," barked Thomas. "Someone to help you out...someone to sound ideas out with..."

"Do you have anyone in mind?" smiled Anthony.

Thomas got up and paced slowly about the room.

"My wife's gone," he grumbled. "I've got nothing but my estate and my servants. Without you about to get me into trouble, I'll die a lonely old man..."

"Is that the best way you can apply for the position?" laughed Anthony. "A dash of pity thrown in with a mention of your wealth and age?"

"Well," snapped Thomas angrily.

"If you wish to stay with me, I would be delighted to have you, provided of course that our Lord allows my request," replied Anthony.

The older man sat down next to him and they sat in silence, each man lost in his thoughts.

Chapter 37

Sir Reginald and his wife, Lady Esther, lowered themselves into the chairs proffered by the King and Queen, both trying not to appear uncomfortable though each felt that way. They had dined with the King and Queen and Prince and Princess and while the food had been delicious, the conversation had been stilted, both sets of parents watching the shy and awkward glances of the Prince and Lady Pauline during the meal. After asking Sir Reginald's permission, Jonathan and Annalisse had taken Pauline to the library while the King and Queen had brought them to the King's study for a private conversation.

After pouring both Sir Reginald and his wife some wine, the King sat opposite Lady Esther, while Marie sat opposite Sir Reginald.

"Reginald," began Alex, "I know this all must have come as a shock to you and your good lady wife..."

"Indeed it does, milord," admitted Reginald.

"It must have been a surprise to your majesties as well," stated Lady Esther.

"It was, but I must say, not an unpleasant one," smiled Marie. "You have a lovely daughter, Lady Esther..."

"And I have no doubt that you can see how Jonathan feels about her," smiled Alex. "I must admit, when he asked my permission, I was surprised. I knew they were friends, but I had no idea that there were any romantic feelings. Now, having listened to him speak of her and having seen them together, I have no doubt of his feelings for her."

"I trust, milord, that you and her majesty are being honest with us," stated Reginald. "I must ask; were you not hoping that your son might court someone with the potential of greater connections? I am a simple man, sire, I have no wealth to speak of other than my wife and daughter and I am certain there will be talk about such a match. Surely, sire, you cannot be faulted for thinking that your son might seek out a more prosperous or more politically advantageous match."

Alex shook his head, "I understand your concern, Reginald, but in all honesty, no. Marie and I have always wanted Jonathan to court the young woman whom he had an honest and true affection for and I believe that he has found her."

"So you and your wife are not upset that he has chosen the daughter of a mere knight," stated Lady Esther.

"Your husband is no "mere knight", milady," smiled Alex. "To answer your question directly, however, no, we are not upset. I believe that I can speak for both of us and state that we are delighted."

"How can we not be delighted?" asked Marie. "Pauline is a wonderful girl and she has the most beautiful heart, how could any mother want more for her son?"

Esther and Reginald glanced at one another.

"What you say is true, milady," replied Esther, "and please believe me that no mother could ask for more for her daughter than your son. Pauline has such a high opinion of him and from the little I have met him...besides being a prince, I mean..."

The four of them laughed and began to relax a bit more.

"I understand your hesitation and it is wise. You are afraid of all of the added pressures such a courtship will cause your daughter," stated Alex.

Both Reginald and Esther nodded.

"We understand and I promise you that we will do our best to protect Pauline from them," stated Alex. "Still, you must understand that there are certain things we cannot protect her from and for that, all I can do is apologize."

"Along those lines, my friends, I am afraid that we must discuss with you a matter of great importance," began Marie. Leaning forward in her chair, she spoke in a confidential tone, "If you were to give your permission, Sir Reginald, and allow Jonathan to court Pauline, we would not be able to make the announcement for another week at the earliest and more likely, not for two more weeks."

"May I ask, milady, why the delay?" asked Reginald.

Alex grimaced, "When the Princess Caroline came to visit recently, the assumption was that she and Jonathan were going to announce that they were courting. That, as you know, did not transpire, but diplomatically, it would be wrong for us to announce that the Prince is courting someone prior to the Princess even being out of the country. We have no wish to embarrass the Princess nor to cause an incident with Albria by insulting her. Jonathan has written to her personally and explained the situation, fortunately, they have become quite good friends during her visit, but diplomatically, we must be careful not to offend."

"So for at least a week or so, no one will know about the situation, should you give your permission," stated Marie.

"Regarding my permission," stated Reginald. "What if I say no? What will happen to my wife and daughter and I?"

Marie glanced at Alex before answering, "I am certain that Jonathan would be broken hearted, milord, but nothing would happen to you or your family. We did not ask you here to coerce you into giving your permission. We are all parents and believe me, we understand how reluctant we would be in your shoes. Pauline is being asked to endure a great deal; we know that because we have all endured it, Alex, Jonathan, Annalisse and myself. It is not easy, no one knows that better than we do..."

"You have a daughter to protect, milord and no one, not even the King, can ask you to act against her best interests," stated Alex. "I know that my son ardently wishes for you to say yes, in fact we all do, but I would never attempt to force you or retaliate against you should you withhold your permission."

Reginald seemed to relax a bit more.

"I meant no disrespect, sire," he replied. "I trust you and her majesty, I want your son to be happy and I want my daughter to be happy as well, but I have reservations. Pauline is so quiet and unassuming, I do not know if she can handle the pressures of the court. I speak, sire as a father, concerned about his daughter's welfare. I know that you will both do what you can to protect her, but you cannot protect her from every unpleasant thing."

"You understand, milady," stated Lady Esther to Marie. "You want no harm to come to your children, you want nothing but the best for them. Pauline is not...well, she is not glamorous or worldly, milady. She is simple and trusting and loving...and very sensitive."

Marie reached out and touched Esther's hand, "I understand, Lady Esther. I still have times when words or rumors cause me a great deal of grief, especially when they concern my children. Oft times it is not easy, but we will never know how Pauline will fare unless we allow them to court one another."

"If I say no, I will break my daughter's heart," stated Reginald softly, "and if I say yes, her heart might be broken..."

"It is a hard decision, milady," stated Esther.

"All we can say is that we, Alex and I, welcome Pauline and will do all that we can to protect her," replied Marie. "We want her happiness and Jonathan's...and yours as well. We know it will be difficult at times, but if they focus on one another..." she reached over and took Alex' hand as she spoke, "it can be wonderful."

Reginald looked at Esther and shrugged, "Well, my love, what do you think?"

Esther considered it for a moment.

"I see it in her eyes, Reg. She will be miserable without him...we have to give her the chance..."

***

Mullins stood in the yard of his friend Dalgar's home shaking his head. What in blazes did this idiot have him standing around for in the middle of the afternoon for? He could be working, making money, but instead...

Dalgar glanced out around his backyard fence onto the road that stood behind their homes and finally saw what he was looking for coming down the alleyway behind their houses. Easing back behind the fence, he hesitated. Glancing up at the second floor window of his home, he could see his wife peering out from behind the curtain. For Dalgar, just like for Mullins, there was no escape.

Clearing his throat, he turned to his friend, "I almost forgot my money, you wait here, I'll be right back..."

Before Mullins could move, Dalgar was past him and back into his home. Mullins huffed, he would wait one more minute and then...

Glancing out the gate, he saw the rider canter past him, the noise of the horse surprising him. Few people rode horses down this alley, it was merely a dirt path behind the homes, strewn with weeds and garbage. Squinting, he caught sight of the rider's face just as he passed the end of the fence. What in blazes is the Lord Parker doing here? Why would he be riding a horse down this path? Glancing out of the fence, he was just able to see Parker come to a halt behind his home and dismount. Glancing about anxiously, Parker did not notice him standing in the gate. With a self satisfied smile, Parker slid into Mullin's backyard.

"By the dragon's tail," he mused.

Glancing back and seeing no sign of Dalgar, he hesitated and then plodded down the path to his own backyard. His back door was closed, but he could hear muted voices speaking as he approached the doorway. Something made him cautious, a fact that angered him.

"Why should I be worried?" he growled to himself. "It's me own home..."

Still he hesitated. What would the Lord Parker want in his home? Slowly, he unlatched the door and opened it, stepping lightly into the kitchen beyond and closing the door softly behind him. He could hear the voices now, but the conversation seemed to make no sense. Slowly he eased himself towards the doorway that led into the living room and crouching down slightly, continued to listen, trying to make sense of it.

"This will help, no doubt, but it is less than I had requested."

"I understand that, but I have other concerns besides you, you know..."

"If you had some self control, you would have less concerns...."

Mullins reared back slightly. How familiarly his wife spoke to his lordship, it was as if they were old friends. Leaning closer once again, he strained to hear what was being said.

"Oh, so you want something for your money, is that it?"

"You do not think that I am entitled?"

"You seem to think you are always entitled, milord. What about my condition? Does it not repulse you?"

"You have grown in more than your belly."

"I can see that you are growing as well..."

Mullins leaned back again, uneasiness gaining ascendency in his feelings. It sounded as if...no, it could not be. He is the Queen's Champion and she is his wife AND pregnant. She is due almost any day now, what could they mean?

Taking a deep breath he gained his resolve. He would look into the room. Crouching still lower, he slowly peered around the corner of the doorway and squinted, trying to discern what was happening in the dim light.

The curtains had been drawn, but there was still enough light meandering through them to cast the two figures into silhouette against the gray background they created. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he could see the figure of a man, his features colorless in the gray light, but distinguishable. The man was standing in the center of the room, he was nude and muscular and his head was thrown back slightly, his body rocking back and forth in a gentle, regular motion. Kneeling before him was a woman, HIS woman, her features bleached gray by the dim light, but undoubtedly her. She too was nude and he could see her hair cascading down her back, her full nude breasts glistening slightly in the dim light, her swollen belly lifting them as she seemed to rock back and forth in rhythm with the man's motions. With each gyration forward by the man, a protrusion appeared between her breasts, thrusting upwards and disappearing into her mouth.

Mullins drew back, tears of shock and rage in his eyes. What should he do? What should he do? Rising, he stumbled back through the kitchen and out the door into his backyard, staggering to the rear fence, blinded by his tears and incoherent anger.

Tripping, he fell to a knee and then bound up again and out his back gate, crying, wailing, running his fingers through his hair, trying to unsee the image he had just seen. He began to lumber blindly down the alley, having no idea of where he was or what he was doing when he ran smack into something large. Strong arms wrapped round him and half hugged, half dragging him into a home, closing a door behind them.

For a time, Mullins could do nothing but wail like a wounded animal. His wife, his beautiful wife, how could she do this to him? She had made his life, his entire life a sham and a shame.

Suddenly, he felt a cup pushed to his lips and he drank a deep draught, choking as he tried to swallow and cry. Slowly his mind began to think again, his focus reemerging back into time and place and he realized he was in Dalgar's house and that Dalgar was forcing grog into his mouth. Slowly, his thoughts began to gel. He stared at Dalgar and finally spoke.

"You knew..."

Dalgar looked at him, ashamed, nodding.

"I didn't know how to tell you, Mullins...how do you tell your friend..." he let the thought complete itself as he poured more grog into his friend's goblet. "I am sorry. With all my heart, I am sorry, but you had to know, Mullins and I couldn't let someone else tell you. I'm sorry, with all me heart, truly I am..."

Mullins stared into his goblet, "The sin isn't yours, Dalgar...tain't yours... You did what you could...what you thought best. I've no quarrel with you, but I've no idea what to do..."

Dalgar sat opposite his friend, the two sitting in silence for a long time. Finally, Dalgar's wife entered the room and lowered herself into the chair opposite Mullins, peering at him with angry, sad eyes.

"It won't make you feel better, Mullins," she stated softly, reaching out and touching his hand, "but you're not alone. You're the first to know, but you're not alone..."

***

Susan sat at a table in a guest room that had been converted into a study for her. Parker seldom entered here, too preoccupied by his own problems to seek out the reason why his wife would need a study of her own. Smiling at the young woman standing before her, she nodded her approval.

"You will do," she stated quietly. "You understand your duties?"

"Yes, milady," stated the young girl. "I am to bring his lordship his afternoon tea everyday..."

"And?" coaxed Susan when the girl hesitated.

"And try to get his lordship to give me a baby," replied the girl, a coy smile on her lips.

"Go and see Melissa," stated Susan, "she will see that you get settled."

The girl curtsied and withdrew, leaving Susan with her thoughts. Rising, she pointed to the door and twisted her hand, her magic locking the door to the room as she crossed to the window and threw it wide open. Returning to the chair beside her desk, she lowered herself down, closing her eyes. Falling into a deep trance, she sought out the man she had seen in the King of Darma's court, the man who would appear to them shortly. It had been the last piece of the puzzle to fall into place, the last thing that would ensure her plan. Darma would supply what was needed for her to place Parker on the throne and to make her Queen. She smiled and then frowned. Why was she suddenly unable to locate him? It took her a moment and then, there, there he was...

She opened her eyes and frowned, he was much closer than she had realized. He was, in fact, here already. How had she been caught off guard like this? She waved her hand before her face, it had been a long day and she had to work especially hard to get Parker to go and see Sheri. To her surprise, he had hesitated once he had gotten his hands on the money, a fact the surprised and aggravated her. It was so inconvenient when you had to rely on other people; it truly was the worst way to have to do things. Other people were absolutely useless and when you were moving the game pieces from a distance, they were even less reliable than they normally would be.

"Melissa," she said in a low voice, "come here."

Melissa, down in the main hallway heard her mistress summon her even as she was explaining her duties to the newest member of the staff. She knew the tone, could hear it clearly. She never questioned how her mistress could summon her from anywhere in the house by speaking in her ear. The question had been asked once, but she could not recall the answer and had lost all interest in it. It was not for her to question; it was never for her to question.

Rushing to the study, she knocked, entered and curtsied.

"You called, milady?"

"A man will arrive here shortly," stated Susan, rising and approaching her. "He will ask to speak to me, but you will tell him that I am not available. When his lordship returns, you will present him to his lordship immediately, do you understand?"

"Yes, milady," replied Melissa fervently.

"Go," snapped Susan.

After Melissa had withdrawn, Susan once again twisted her hand and locked the door, closing her eyes and musing on all that needed to happen. Where was Parker? She sought him out, seeing him in her mind's eye as he departed Sheri's home and climbed aboard his horse and began heading home. He would arrive a bit late for his appointment with destiny. Well...the man would wait...yes, he would wait...

Chapter 38

A week after these momentous events, Princess Caroline sat in her coach, only two days from arriving home, rereading Jonathan's letter and unable to contain a chuckle. When she had wished Jonathan luck in finding someone, she mused, she had no idea how quickly her wish for him would be fulfilled. His apology for any embarrassment his announcement would cause her also made her smile; he was so considerate, she was glad that they were friends.

Picking up a quill, she ordered her coachman to stop so that she could write a reply to the message she had just received. Placing a writing board upon her lap, she was about to begin her letter when she hesitated. Despite her best efforts, she could not recall the woman that Jonathan had asked to court him. Lady Pauline? She remembered Lady Heather, she had a wicked sense of humor and a sharp tongue and had been extremely amusing. She also recalled Lady Ellen, such a beautiful woman and very nice, but a bit vague mentally. The other woman there had been so quiet and had hidden in the background so completely that for the life of her, Caroline could not recall what she looked like. Was THAT Lady Pauline?

Perhaps it was best to leave out too many references to the lady in question and to concentrate upon the rest of Jonathan's message. There was quite a bit to speak about from what he had written and she knew that if she were diplomatic, she could avoid the fact that she was unsure of who it was he was courting.

Dearest Jonathan,

Thank you for your kind and considerate letter. I want to assure you that I am not upset by the recent events that you have described; in fact I am only too happy that my good friend has found someone who might become his life's companion. I only wish to congratulate you and the lady and to give you my wish that you will both be very happy together.

While I can understand your fear that I would be hurt or embarrassed by an announcement of your courting another so soon after we decided that we were not compatible for one another, I assure you that I am neither. I had written frankly to my father prior to receiving your letter, explaining all to him and stating that we had parted amicably and the very best of friends. I will write to him and include a copy of your letter. I am most certain that there will be no reaction beyond his wishes for your continued happiness.

As for me, my friend, I hope that I too will soon have the good fortune to report to you that I have found the right person for myself. Please write to me again when you have the opportunity and feel free to share this letter with your father to allay any fears that he might entertain. Again, I wish you and the fortunate lady happiness for years to come.

Your Friend,

Caroline

Caroline viewed her letter with a smile. She wished that she could remember the young woman. Rolling up the parchment, she placed it in a messenger tube and sealed it with a ribbon. Perhaps, she mused, they would wed and she would be invited to the wedding and then the mystery of whom this woman he had fallen in love with would be solved. Calling out the window of the coach, the Princess summoned the Prince's messenger to her and handed him the scroll.

"Please see to it that Prince Jonathan receives this message immediately," she smiled.

The messenger bowed from his saddle and smiled at the beautiful young woman framed in the coach's window. Taking the missive from her hand, the messenger saluted her and then spurred his horse back down the road from whence he had come.

Caroline shook her head and laughed, life was strange indeed...

***

Lady Trilian stared at the messenger as if he had lost his mind and with an angry frown snapped, "Repeat that!"

The messenger smiled at her and lifting the paper held before him, began to read, "It is by his majesty's command that I am instructed to inform you that his royal highness, Prince Jonathan, heir to the throne of Zambelia, is officially courting the Lady Pauline of Lanclyn..."

"I will have you horsewhipped!" snapped Lady Trilian.

The messenger lowered the paper and stared at her, perplexed.

"Begging your pardon, milady?"

"To come here so drunk as to be unable to read a simple message," she fumed.

"I assure you, milady, that I am not drunk," replied the messenger angrily. "It is nine o'clock in the morning; I have never had a drink of anything but water before noon..."

"How can you misread a name in that manner?" snapped the lady. "Prince Jonathan is courting Princess Caroline of Albria!"

"According to this, he is courting Lady Pauline of Lanclyn," replied the messenger stiffly. "Lord Albert himself handed this message to me and if you will allow me to present it to you, you will note his seal upon the bottom of it!"

Grasping the document out of the young man's hands, she first stared at the seal and then at the wording, her eyes widening as she read the name printed upon the paper.

"Lady Pauline? Of Lanclyn?" she hissed in an angry whisper.

"Eh?" asked Lord Trilian as he tottered down the grand staircase and into the main foyer where her ladyship stood with the messenger. "What about Lanclyn?"

"Lady Pauline of Lanclyn is courting Prince Jonathan!" she snapped, handing him the paper to read.

Lord Trilian was a rotund, balding man who knew that his place in life was to agree with his wife and try to stay out of the way. Glancing at the missive, he nodded his agreement and then handed it back to his wife, who handed it violently back to the messenger.

"This is an outrage!" she cried. "How can it be?"

The messenger sniffed slightly, "I was instructed to relay the message, milady, not to comment on the contents."

"Sir Reginald," stated her husband to no one in particular.

"What?" she asked angrily.

"Sir Reginald," her repeated with a smile. "Must be his daughter, this Lady Pauline...little thing, small. Quiet girl, doesn't say much...he's a good farmer, very good. Made his home profitable, his father was a poor farmer, was losing money, but he...he knows his stuff. Helped me with our asparagus once..."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, her eyes filled with anger. "The Prince of the most powerful kingdom in the world is courting a farmer's daughter and you speak of how he can cure asparagus?"

"Didn't cure it," rumbled Lord Trilian. "Just helped it a bit..."

"How did this happen?" she asked, turning to the messenger, who shrugged in reply. "How was this allowed to happen?"

"Skinny," stated Lord Trilian, trying to be helpful.

"What?"

"Skinny," he repeated. "Girl is skinny. Nothing to look at...not ugly, mind you, not ugly...plain, just plain...likes poetry. Reg said he was getting her a book of poetry for her birthday, I remember that..."

"Please stop speaking," groaned his wife. "This is a catastrophe. How did this nothing ever get close enough to the Prince to even meet him?"

"He's friends with her cousin," replied Lord Trilian. "Lady...oh damn, what's her name...having a baby...angry, very angry...he always dances with her, what is her name..."

"Lady Heather," snapped his wife.

"That's it," smiled Lord Trilian, "she's the one. Yes, her, Lanclyn is her cousin, I bet that's how they met...makes sense now..."

"No it does not! How can a farmer's daughter steal a prince from a woman as beautiful as Princess Caroline? What are the King and Queen thinking? Have they lost their minds? We will be a laughing stock amongst the nations! He's so handsome it is almost criminal and she looks like an underfed chambermaid!"

Lord Trilian chuckled, "Underfed chambermaid, funny...very funny...skinny, plain and skinny..."

"I must speak to the Queen at once," decided Lady Trilian. "Someone has to speak some sense to her. She cannot condone this! If things progress, this nothing will one day be Queen, can you imagine?"

"Suppose I'll be dead by then," huffed Lord Trilian. "Really not my affair I suppose..."

"You'll be dead sooner than you know if you do not get ready to go to Wharton immediately," snapped his wife.

Lord Trilian knew that tone and immediately tottered off to change his clothing. It would be a waste of a day, driving to Wharton so that his wife could whisper into the Queen's ear while he stood around trying to look interested. Maybe Stasha would allow him some breakfast. He smiled; maybe things were looking up after all...

***

"Just drink some broth," stated Mullins softly. "It will help you, give you some strength..."

Sheri stared up at him, her complexion waxy, her eyes glassy in the dim light of their bedroom. She was so hot and sick and the pains were so intense in her legs. She took the bowl and brought it to her lips and drank some, desperate for some type of relief.

"Where's our son?" she asked as she handed back the bowl, her hand shaking slightly.

"Our son?" asked Mullins, barely able to pronounce the words. "I sent the boy to my mother's so that you might have some rest."

"I feel awful," she stated, shivering as if she were cold, but feeling as if her skin were on fire. "Did you send for the doctor?"

"He is away," stated Mullins calmly. "I have sent a messenger to the next town seeking their doctor, he should arrive shortly."

Sheri rubbed her stomach, "Oh God, what will this do to the baby?"

Mullins held the bowl up to her lips once again, "Drink this, it will help."

Sheri could barely hold the bowl. Halfway through her sip, she began to cough violently, the pain excruciating. Her legs felt like ice and her skin like fire. She stared at Mullins who stood passively looking down at her, watching her as the light went out of her eyes and she slumped back against the mattress, the last of her air escaping her lungs and then, silence. He went to the dresser and found her hand held looking glass and taking it to her, held it beneath her nose. Nothing. Lifting his hand, he touched her eyelids, her skin still warm to the touch, and drew them closed. He went to the nightstand and took a cloth and twisting it, he wound it about her head and pulled her open mouth shut before tying it in a knot. He sat on the bed and stared at her for a moment.

"You and his child have paid for what you did," he muttered. "Him, well, he's a problem. I know I'm no fighter, but him, he was the Queen's Champion, he knows all about fighting, don't he? There's only one way I can get to him and that's on the sly, from behind, when he don't expect it. Well, I promise you, my love, he won't expect it any more than you did and I promise you just the same that I'll do him just like I did you and that devil spawn you were carrying. Now I've got to go and make some arrangements to have you buried and to send the boy away and then, well, then I'll make sure that you won't have too long to wait in hell before you're reunited with your lover. Won't that be nice?"

Mullins stood and strode down the stairs and marched out into the street, lumbering down to the doctor's home. The doctor could pronounce her dead and then they could call the priests and mourners and dispose of her.

He had decided not to kill the boy, he would let him live with his mother until he returned. He would close up his home and his business and he would go into hiding. He had always been a fairly good hunter, but he had never hunted a man before. He knew that he would have to approach him with stealth and speed and he also knew in the cold, clear logic that his mind suddenly possessed that he was neither stealthy nor speedy. He would hide and train and spy and he would be ready when the moment came and he would kill him, just like he had killed her, just like he had killed the unborn child in her belly.

Striding up to the doctor's door, he knocked. The door was opened by the doctor's wife, an elderly woman with great dignity who served as the doctor's assistant.

"I need you husband to come," he stated calmly. "My wife is sick..."

Chapter 39

Ragar sat in Parker's study, a harsh smile playing across his features as he handed a bag of gold across the desk to him.

"I hope that this gift might help your lordship," he laughed. "How are your...various situations developing, if I might ask?"

"You might not ask," snapped Parker, angry with himself as he held the bag of gold in his hand, weighing it against his broken conscience.

"Well, it does not really matter," smiled Ragar. "My lord, the King, does not concern himself with the affairs of his informants. What you do on your own time is your own business. Speaking of business, let us speak of the reason I am here."

Parker blanched; he had accepted assistance from the man knowing who and what he was and now he had to deliver. He had to give him information, it was a simple as that; there was no sense thinking about it.

"You know of the deployment of the King's army, how many men he has in what locations," began Ragar. "We are mostly interested in how man troops he has at the mountain passes in the north."

Parker gritted his teeth; if he responded, he would become a traitor, there was no going back. If he stopped now, confessed all, Alex might let him live, might let him continue his miserable life in a monastery or banished to some hellhole abroad. Parker steeled himself, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

"The mountain passes are guarded according to the size of each pass and the number of troops behind them," he began. There was no going back...

***

Pauline paced the library, her nerves on edge. The announcement had been made this morning regarding the King granting his permission for his son to court her and the idea of facing all of the nobles who had gathered in the audience chamber was overwhelming to her. The more she thought of it, the more insecure she felt and she swallowed hard, unable to calm her fears. The door to the library opened and Jonathan entered. As she turned towards him, he smiled and she surprised and pleased him by running into his arms. He held her tightly for a moment before either one could speak.

"Are you nervous, Pauline?" he asked softly.

"Jonathan, I am terrified," she admitted. "What will they say? What will I say?"

She eased back slightly and looked into his eyes, he seemed so calm, how could he be so calm?

"The announcement has been read," he said softly. "I could barely stand waiting for them to finish it before I came to fetch you. Thank you, Pauline, for making me so happy."

Pauline felt her nerves beginning to calm. Ever so gently, she reached up and touched his cheek. He had been so gentle and attentive to her ever since her father had agreed to let them court and now the whole world knew about it. Gingerly, he leaned down and kissed her. It was the first time they had been alone and the first time they had kissed since the night of the ball, but the feelings she had now were exactly the same as they were on that magical night. The kiss seemed to last forever and then, ever so gently, Jonathan pulled away from her and taking her hand, led her out the door of the library and down the hall towards the audience chamber.

As they entered the room, she stared at him, her little crooked smile firmly in place, her eyes filled with love for him and for him alone. He looked back at her, never taking his eyes from her face, the gentle pressure of his hand electrifying her heart. Finally, they stood, hand in hand, before the King and Queen and Jonathan turned to face his parents, who stood. For the briefest moment, Pauline hesitated and then remembered and she curtsied to the King and Queen, looking down at the floor as she heard Jonathan say in a strong, proud voice.

"Your majesty's, Mother and Father, may I present to you Lady Pauline of Lanclyn."

Glancing up, Pauline saw the King's large hand extend out for her and she ever so carefully reached out and took it and stood. She stared up at the giant man who smiled so gently and happily at her that she could not help but smile back at him. Gently, the King guided her to his side and as Pauline turned, the Queen drew her into her arms and embraced her.

"You look lovely, my dear," whispered Marie softly into her ear.

"Thank you, your royal highness," replied Pauline, fighting back tears.

As Marie released her, she found Jonathan at her side. As he drew near, he reached out and gently took her hand and raising it to his lips, kissed it ever so softly before leading her to a chair next to his father. She sat between the King and Jonathan as the noble families came forward to congratulate the happy couple. All Pauline could do was smile and say thank you. It was a dream, all a dream...

***

Annalisse stepped into the library and took a deep breath. She was so happy for Jonathan, but she needed a moment alone. She was so tired of answering questions from the scores of angry females whom had not gained her brother's attention and all she wanted was to let the happy couple enjoy their time together and to find some peace and quiet for herself. Gliding to a chair, she had just lowered herself down into it when the door opened. Oh, no, not another one of her brother's disappointed admirers.

"I am sorry if I am disturbing you, your highness."

Annalisse could not contain her smile, "No, milord, the Earl of Carria, you are not disturbing me..."

"I had notice you retreat to the library and I was hoping I might have a private word with you, your royal highness," he replied softly.

"Well, I can assure you that we are alone," she giggled. "I was trying to hide from my brother's disappointed admirers..."

"If I am intruding..." he began.

"Not at all," she stated, standing and crossing to him. "You are not a disappointed young lady, so I am only too pleased to see you."

"I was hoping that you might be only too pleased to see me anyway," replied Anthony, breaking into a smile. "I had hoped I might tell you something and I pray that you will see it as a good thing."

Annalisse nodded, "Pray, continue."

"I have written to my lord, the Duke," stated Anthony. "I had not mentioned it before because we were always in company before, but I wish to let you know that I have requested to be made the ambassador to the court of Zambelia."

Annalisse took a moment to process the information.

"So you will be permanently assigned to my father's court?" she asked.

"I am hoping that the Duke will allow it," replied Anthony. "I have not yet received a reply, but it is what I have requested."

Frowning slightly, she gently touched his hand, "But milord, you love your country so, you have spoken to me about your love of Gronolo...why do you exile yourself from the land you love?"

Anthony smiled at her and replied gently, "To be with the woman I love..."

And then the most wonderful thing happened. He leaned forward and he kissed her...

***

I would like to thank you for reading "Royal Dilemmas" the third sequel in the "Royal Consort" series. I hope that you have enjoyed this novel and I invite you to let me know what you thought of it. Please feel free to drop me a line via email at mailto:maczazski@hotmail.com. and/or to write a review of the book at the site from which you purchased it. Thanks again for choosing "Royal Dilemmas"; I hope that you will take the opportunity to read some of my other work and I look forward to hearing from you!

