Book 3, Chapter 31: The Party

Three boys training to be armorers helped take off my plate mail, then the chain underneath. Left with me wearing a two-piece gambeson, effectively resembling a thick shirt and pants, the boys hesitated. Taking these off would be somewhat intimate, as underneath the new gambeson was only a short shift and drawstring boxer shorts.

Brin quickly shooed them away, “Nope. We’re moving onto getting the princess into a proper dress. No boys allowed, out, out!”

After getting rid of them, her eyes moved up and down the suit resting on its wooden frame, “It kind of looks like a human beetle, Cayce.”

“A beetle?”

“You know, the empty shell, a carapace . . . was it strange, being in a beetle’s skin?”

“Gross. Just get me out of this gambeson and into whatever dress you’ve planned for this evening.”

“Oh, you will love it! I had it made in white, for purity and goodness, as you’re one year closer to assuming the throne. Ladies!” Brin spun on her heels, clapping her hands, and the ladies in waiting went to work.

I was soon dressed in something approaching a wedding dress. All white, bare shoulders, with puffy sleeves and a narrow waist, rouge on my eyelids and under my cheeks, lips painted to match my eyes, though a lighter purple, hair done back in braids, and the unusual rust colored dust that stained my fingernails in the appearance of the sun.

Finally, one of the girls pulled out a chest, opening it to reveal sets of shining, sparkling jewelry. She put her hands on my perseidian bracelet to remove it, and I quickly placed my hand on hers, “No, this jewelry stays.”

“I thought you could wear something more spectacular today. Of all days, you really need brighter metals and more gemstones.”

“These stay. You can add more jewelry if you think it’ll help.”

She gave me an odd look, then clasped a metal bracelet slightly higher up my forearm that was three inches wide, silver and studded with diamonds, sparkling away.

The new jewelry on, Brin turned toward me, opening a final box. “One last item to go. You’ll love this!”

“I’m sure. Wait, is that a-”

“A tiara! Yes.” It was made out of polished silver, though thin, the diamonds glinting in the candlelight furiously. She placed it into my hair, jostling it about, making sure it was well set and wouldn’t fall out.

“I mean, ok, sure, a tiara. Why not?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing. It’s just that . . .” I was really and truly embarrassed now. No idea why the tiara did it, but it seemed like a step too far. Here’s your teenage body! Ok. And you’re a princess! Ok. Now you have to wear dresses! Uh, alright. Oh, and here you go, a tiara! No, no. That’s where I stop.

I sat there wishing I could say all those things to her, my misgivings and fully justified imposter-syndrome, as she fiddled with my hair, ensuring the tiara would, against my wishes, stay put, but instead, searching for something wrong that I could complain about, spoke quietly, hoping only Brin could hear, saying, “These diamonds better not magnify magical energy!”

“Hush now, your iron bracelets and rings are stopping it just nicely. Hopefully.” She pulled my hair ever so slightly, “There! You are all done. Let’s go to your birthday and meet lots of men!”

“Uhm . . . do I really have to wear a tiara?”

“You want to wear the heavy, gold crown?”

“Not really, no.”

“Then you are wearing the tiara, Princess.”

“You are a harsh mistress, Brin.”

She slapped my behind to the collective gasp of the ladies in waiting, and scooted me out of the room. “The harshest!”

***

As the double doors were opened for us, well, pulled aside for me, me in particular, the crowd’s noise did not die down immediately. People were chatting and laughing, servants circulated, passing out food and drink. An excellent time for me to slink into the crowd and-

“Her Royal Highness, Crown Princess Cayce!” bellowed out the crier, shaking a loud bell three times.

I cringed, pulling my shoulders in close. The courtyard went quiet, except for the crackling of firewood in the iron stoves that dotted the area. All eyes turned to me. I had nothing prepared and gave a little wave.

“Cayce!” whispered Brin, “Say something!”

I narrowed my eyes at her, then spoke loudly for the courtyard, “Thank you all for coming. It is a true pleasure to host everyone. Eat, drink, be merry!”

Some of the guests stared at us surprised, at me surprised, others went back to conversing.

“That was the single worst entrance speech a princess has ever given.”

“Why didn’t you tell me I’d have to say something?!”

“Because it was obvious. Like telling you to sleep on a pillow. I didn’t think I had to!”

“Never mind, let’s go mingle.”

The earls were making a beeline for me. I guess they weren’t finished being angry about my creation of an underclass of nobility. Tread and Morry were likewise heading over and got here first.

Morry took my hand, bowing, “Your Highness.”

“Sir Morrentz, you’re looking nice today.”

“Sir?”

“The title of a knight. Surely, you remember being knighted this afternoon.”

“Princess, I think you need to release a proclamation about exactly what, ah, being a knight entails. Or we’re going to see a lot of violence in the next few weeks.”

“Violence?”

“Exactly what the man said! And worse,” Earl Halfthon started, stopping in front of me, “We need to talk about this, Princess Cayce!”

“Now? We just went over-”

“This very second!”

“Alright, let’s talk about it.” I walked over to one of the pipes for warmth. Someone brought me a mug of ale, I gave that person a smile, then turned to face the angry lords, “You’re looking at this all wrong. I didn’t create a new group of nobles competing for the power and land you hold, gentlemen, I created a new underclass of nobility, one that we are going to propagandize as upstanding and moral, the true protectors of the innocent.”

“Propagandize?”

“Yes. Furthermore, doing so will increase the economic power of our kingdom. Here’s how it works,” and I explained to them, in the clearest and most succinct possible way, how a merit-based system with a large middle class would actually serve to magnify their wealth and increase the productivity of the kingdom overall. I paused, waiting for their nods and agreement.

Earl Carlisele, his teeth clenched, said, “You’re setting us up to get lynched!”

Hafthon jumped in with, “We already have a working system in place where the commoners support us and we protect them.”

“Well, now we have an improved one.”

“You did this as a self-serving move,” Earl Carlisele shook his finger in front of me, “to make our men loyal to you instead of us.”

“I don’t see it that way. I want to build an economically viable empire that-”

“Empire?”

“I misspoke, sorry. Economically viable kingdom that doesn’t rely on constant warfare to grow.”

“At the least,” Earl Hafthon said, standing straight in front of me, half blocking the other earls, “you should have consulted us first. Your young mind is grossly underestimating the dangers of what you just did.”

“Look, it’s apparent that I’m not going to convince you right now,” I put my hand on my hips. To my right, Morry looked tense, readying himself. “Let’s discuss this further in the next few days. I assure you, I have no intention of reducing your power or destabilizing your noble positions. This move will benefit us all.”

Morry stepped forward, “The princess is correct. Now is not the time to discuss these issues.” He looked down on Hafthon, grim as ever.

The earl stared right back up at Morry and I placed my hand on my bracelet, waiting. Then Hafthon smiled, “Of course. Now is not the time.” He turned to me, “Enjoy your night, my lady. This week we shall discuss in detail the repercussions of what you have done today. And congratulations and happy birthday.” With that, he turned and made his way to others, the earls following him after their own mumbled coronation and birthday sentiments.

Taking my hand off my bracelet, “Thank you, Morry.”

“Sir Morry to you now.”

“Sir Morrentz! Salut!” I drank a good portion of my ale.

He held his up to me and downed it in one go.

Behind me, Brin’s mother’s voice, “Happy birthday, Your Highness.”

As I turned to speak to her, a woman I’d been avoiding, Morry held his drink and looked at it, shrugged, then headed off to get more, taking Tread with him. “Thank you, my lady.”

“Forgive my husband. He doesn’t know when he’s lost and he’s envious of a fifteen-year-old girl.”

“Envious? Lost?”

“Yes, to both. Cheers, to your future,” she clinked her glass of wine against my ale mug, a little too hard, we both drank, me somewhat cautiously, she continued, “Exalting the soldiers was a brilliant move. They,” she gestured in the direction of the earls, “didn’t see it coming.”

“Uhm, well, I didn’t mean it that way. I-”

“Yes, you did. Don’t undersell yourself now, pettiness isn’t attractive. It was a great counter, one that no one saw coming.”

“Alright. I guess, thank you, then.”

“You’ll still have to give the duchy to Hafthon, you know. He has you trapped.”

“Trapped? I don’t follow. Don’t you want the duchy?”

“Me? Oh, you mean my husband. If we’re being frank, only Hafthon has the soldiers to hold it. Of course, you could bring him with you.”

“And, trapped?”

“Because come spring, there will be war and your army will be out in the field.” She took a rather long draught on her glass, then smiled, “I should be happy, you probably won’t succeed, but I’ve come to . . . admire the work you’ve put into this place, into the army.”

“Countess, if I am to understand correctly, you’re suggesting I give the duchy to Hafthon, or take him and his soldiers with me, most likely to fail in the field. Aren’t you concerned about a Laemacian attack?”

The countess held her glass up, “Without the mages in your army, it doesn’t matter how many soldiers we can field. It appears I’m out of wine. Crown Princess Cayce, I hope you enjoy your night as much as your knights.” She gave a slight nod of her head, which I guess constituted an honorific gesture, and headed off to get more wine.

Morry returned, carrying an ale jug. He filled my mug, for the second time ever, and asked, “What did the good countess want?”

“I believe she’s drunk. And apparently has given up all hope of this duchy surviving summer. She seems to be expecting a Laemacian attack.”

“It’s possible.”

“If we don’t leave mages, they won’t be able to hold. She said that. Does Laemacia have more mages than us?” If so, well, war against them would be meaningless.

“That’s not a topic I know anything about, Princess. Perhaps you can ask their ambassador? He is here somewhere.”

“You know what I’d like?”

“What’s that?”

“Mead, let’s switch to the stronger stuff.”

“A recommendation I can get behind, Princess.”

“Just the thing I brought for you, Your Highness,” Maitlan appeared, offering a crystal glass filled with light yellow mead. “Alas, I did not bring one for your, ah, knights here.”

“I’ll get my own. Come, Tread.”

“Wait . . . I’ll . . .” With envy, I watched Morry and Tread walk away, leaving me with Maitlan. Sighing inwardly, I reached out and accepted his offer, “Thank you for the drink, my lord.”

“Come now, no need for titles, especially on this day! Congratulations, Cayce.” His hair was carefully combed, his beard trimmed, wearing a red vest over a brown tunic, matching hose and high boots.

“Why thank you, Maitlan.”

“I have to say, what you wore into the cathedral, the most regal armor anyone has ever laid eyes upon.”

“Lovely. That’s what I was going for.”

“Does the armor work? I mean, as protection against weaponry.”

“Oh, yes. Much better than chainmail alone. You will see. We are having more made.”

“But at the cost of so much metal!”

“Perhaps I judged you too harshly, Maitlan. That’s an accurate assessment. Only the nobles and select regiments will be able to be outfitted in it.”

He cocked his head, “Judged me too harshly?”

“Anyways, how are you doing tonight?”

“Much better, to be in your presence.”

I did not roll my eyes. “Lovely. And your soldiers?”

“They’ve adjusted to village life. Actually, I wanted to ask you-”

“About bringing them into the castle? I suppose it’s time we widen the training regiments for the soldiers. And we’ve been expanding housing along the inner wall, so it may be acceptable now.”

“That sounds great, but no, that’s not what . . . it was what you did earlier, for the soldiers. Making them nobles. It’s a good idea and I was hoping you’d consider exalting my troops as well.”

I laughed, “Knighting them. The term is ‘knighting,’ not exalting. And, yes, of course. But I’m curious, what do you see that the other earls don’t? They’re quite angry about the whole thing.”

“Well,” he snuck his arm into mine as we walked and since he was gentle, it wasn’t repellant, “my earldom is in tatters from war and its population cowed. I need lots of hard-working people and the way I see it, they’ll work harder for their own land than they will for mine. It’s a matter of mutual protection at that point, Yohstone being close to the Ketzillian empire.”

“Huh.” I was shocked, didn’t expect this from the young earl, “You’ll give away land for this goal?”

“How my father ran the earldom didn’t work. I need something new if we’re to survive.”

“You should come to our next council meeting. Next few council meetings. We’re going to discuss how to implement this system.”

“How are you going to do so?”

“Oh, god, I have no idea. I just . . . got carried away in the moment.” And wanted to bolster my own power by elevating those who protect me. The earls weren’t wrong about that. It was a power move.

Plus, who doesn’t want knights? But now I have to think about things like land and income taxes. I’ll go down in history as the worst person to ever govern. Not that I could tell him these things. I took a sip from the mead and thought about skipping the next council meeting. Maybe I could appoint Maitlan to run it.

“I’ll be sure to join you. Wait.” He stopped, so I had to stop. “Isn’t that the Barclay Archbishop?”

“Yes.”

“What’s he doing here?”

“Oh, he wants to punish me for killing his Inquisitor-General and have me marry the young Duke Barclay to give him the kingdom.”

“Did you say marry the new Duke Barclay?”

“Uh, yes. And punish me for killing his Inquisitor-General.”

“You aren’t seriously considering that, are you?” He looked worried.

“I can’t kill him twice, though the thought is delightful.”

“I mean marrying the duke! He must be, what, seventeen? Not more than a boy.”

“Sixteen.” I gave him a mischievous smile, “Well, it would consolidate my power and-”

“No, it wouldn’t! You’d be conceding power to the east, which would seriously endanger your western kingdom. Plus, you wouldn’t be leading anymore.”

“Maitlan, there’s this thing called ‘too desperate.’ Calm down, you were finally being ok tonight.”

“I, uh, too desperate?”

“Oh, bother, he’s coming this way.”

“Shall I kiss you to scare him off?”

“Let’s not.”

“Have I told you how attractive you are today?”

“Too desperate.” Long sigh. “I was almost enjoying having your arm in mine.”

He looked at me with surprise in his face, “What?”

“Your Highness, Earl . . . Yohstone isn’t it?” The elderly priest stopped in front of us, full red wine glass in his hand, but no color in his narrow cheeks.

Maitlan looked from the archbishop to me before speaking, a touch nervous. Probably some social slight the old man was giving me that I wasn’t aware of. “Yes, Your Excellency. Have you come to offer your blessing to the new Crown Princess?”

“Of course, congratulations my lady. It appears you are having a wonderful celebration. Though I would be remiss in not informing you that this morning’s coronation is not legally binding. Nor your creation of the new noble class.”

“What your order considers legally binding isn’t something I’m concerned with.”

“You are treading down a very dangerous road.”

“It’s one your order sent me on.”

“Careful, young princess, your words are straying very close to blasphemy.”

Coming from the world I did, the words escaped my mouth before I could stop them, “Blasphemy laws exist to protect make-believe.”

The priest’s face shook a little as he said, “I beg your pardon?”

“If you’ll excuse me, priest. Maitlan, come. The Laemacian ambassador is over there and wants to discuss a new military agreement with him.” I dragged the poor boy by the arm away from what I hoped was a shocked archbishop.

“You just insulted him considerably.”

“Good.”

“They have a powerful military, you know.”

“Maybe I should marry the Laemacian emperor then.”

“But then . . . then we’d all become Laemacians! I’m not sure that’s in our best interests.”

“They do have war rhinos, you know. Probably crush our enemies very quickly.”

“My lady, please tell me you are joking.”

“I’m joking, Maitlan.”

“That’s a relief. I was worr-”

“Hush now. You’re here only to be a trophy.” I ignored his look and caught the attention of the ambassador.

“Princess Cayce, let me first start with happy birthday. And congratulations on your coronation. Your entrance was as marvelous as you were stunning.” He looked over at the Barclay archbishop, whose stare I could feel burning into my backside, and increased his volume, “I’d like you to know that my government considers you the lawfully crowned monarch.”

A warm smile overtook my face, “I deeply appreciate that, on behalf of my kingdom, Ambassador. I hope you’ll share that news far and wide.”

“Oh, to as many people who will listen.”

I decided then and there that the assassin was probably sent by the Seclazrin clergy if not the archbishop himself. A Laemacian to get me to distrust the emperor. They needn’t have done that, since I didn’t trust him anyways, but because he would never learn what happened to the assassin, it felt enjoyable to give them more to worry about.

“Your Excellency,” Maitlan begun, not taking his arm from out of mine and squeezing just a touch tighter so I couldn’t withdraw from him without making it obvious, “I am Maitlan Yohstone. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The ambassador bowed, “And a pleasure to meet you as well. I take it you are a prospective suitor to the princess?”

“I consider myself the prospective suitor to Princess Cayce here,” he finished by looking at me with slightly widened eyes, full of expectation.

“Ah,” the ambassador said, smiling, “you can be one of the princess’s five husbands.”

“Five?!”

I jumped in with, “I have to start somewhere. A girl needs her harem.”

“Cayce, surely you don’t-”

I cut him off quickly, holding up my drink, “Maitlan, can you be a good man and get me another mead? A bug flew into this one.”

“Ah, yes, it would be my pleasure.” He let my arm slip out of his as he took my cup in his hand, gave me one last reluctant glance, and headed off.

“A most persistent boy.”

“You aren’t kidding. I’m really, really hoping another girl catches his eye soon.”

“No other girl around has a kingdom.” The ambassador abruptly switched gears, “What you did today was interesting, to say the least. Though I believe you put your life at some risk. And here in the far north, not even in your own castle.”

Screw it, I thought. Might as well be blunt. “Am I worth more to you alive or dead?”

If he was taken aback, he didn’t show it, but he did straighten his posture as he considered, finally saying, “Alive. If I may be honest for a moment, and if this will stay between us . . .”

“Of course.” I rested my hand on his arm, moving in a little closer.

“You were correct before when you said your claim to the Laemacian throne was stronger than the current emperor. A marriage between you two would legitimize his claim by direct involvement with the original blood, and your children’s legitimacy would be indisputable.”

My gaze fell low. The grass was cut short. I couldn’t see my shoes for the dress in the way. The ambassador’s were highly polished, dark brown boots with matching leather laces.

“I have to admit,” I said, thinking about the angry nobles, the entire church that wanted my head, the likelihood of losing the upcoming spring campaign, the safety the large Laemacian forces would provide, “the emperor’s offer is . . . gaining in its attractiveness.” I looked up into his eyes. But I couldn’t bring myself to smile.

He tilted his head, “For the spring campaign, Laemacia would send down another fifty thousand soldiers and a hundred rhinos. Reclaiming your lands would be a mere trifle. An exercise in transport.” He placed his hand on mine. “None of these nobles, these earls, would be allowed to endanger you. Nor Barclay’s repulsive church.”

Whoops, so much for the summer campaign ruse. Lying, it seemed, was too difficult for me. Better just to keep quiet and listen. We walked a bit in silence while I berated myself for the attempted deception. It was perhaps too long before I spoke, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. “I must think on this further.”

“Of course. Not a decision to rush into.”

I’d been expecting him to say that I’d had months to decide already. But I guess in this world without instant communication and fast travel, long waits were expected and understood.

“I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but he’s not as handsome as I am. My brother.”

“Wait, what? You’re his brother?”

“Are you surprised, my lady?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, what would happen if we kidnapped you and demanded ransom or something?”

“I imagine he’d declare war.” He smiled briefly, then it dropped from his face, “I’d like to imagine he’d declare.”

“You have to understand, when you first came here, you basically said I had to marry the guy or it’d be war. Once you play that card, threats of war just aren’t so compelling.”

“I believe you are correct in this regard. Are you going to imprison me, my lady?”

“No. I think I like you out of prison more than the alternative.” I slipped my arm into his, “listen, someone sent an assassin into my private chambers. Laemacian. I’m now thinking it wasn’t you.”

“I’m gladdened to hear of your trust in me. I did not send any assassins at you and can’t help but wonder who did.”

“Is it possible to strike up a bargain? I promise to visit the emperor after reclaiming my kingdom and you agree not to attack this summer?”

“You believe it will be so easy to regain your kingdom?”

“Well, I mean, with your war rhinos . . .”

He laughed. “It would be easier for you, and better I think, were you to accept our help now. But I can see you’re headstrong and determined. I think I might be able to strike up that arrangement with my brother.”

“Oh, that would be great. If you could. I’d love for our kingdom to not be attacked.”

“Keep in mind, though, that if your kingdom weakens further, you’ll lose the bargaining power to protect your autonomy.”

“My autonomy?”

“I believe my brother has proved that an army makes an emperor. It certainly captured an empire for him. You, a princess, control the largest army here, so your grip on this part of your kingdom is secure.”

“You’re worried I won’t retake my kingdom.”

“No, no, you have that exactly backwards. I’m warning you that losing your army loses your kingdom. I fear in such a case, the strongest earl will take this duchy.”

“Hafthon.”

“Yes. If anyone, him. But my fear is more than that. I worry you will be successful.”

Surprised, I looked up at him. No smile on his face. Then someone took my left hand. I looked. Maitlan, carrying my drink.

“Princess Cayce, your mead.”

“Thank you, I-”

“The dance will be starting soon, come! If you’ll excuse us, Your Excellency, I must escort the princess to the dance.”

“Of course, of course.”

I looked to the ambassador for help, but he’d already disentangled his arm from me. Maitlan dragging me away, “Dance? What dance? Maitlan, I don’t dance.”

He laughed, “It’s a ball. There’s dancing!”

“If it’s not club music, maybe electronica or R&B, I’m not dancing.” I was horrified that I’d said that out loud and wanted to drink the mead he’d brought, but he was dragging me along like zombies were chasing us, and it was all I could do to not spill the damn drink.

“What? It’s not difficult. I’ll show you. Surely, you’ve danced before though!”

“Maitlan! Stop, stop, wait a sec.” We paused. I downed the mead in one go, passed the cup to some servant nearby. “God, if I’m going to do this, it’s going to be drunk.”

“Uh, ok. That was a lot of mead.”

I turned my awkward and somewhat annoyed gaze at him. Felt the warmth hit my stomach and a slight smile crept upon my face.

He mistook the smile for him, smiled back, and took my right hand. To my horror, couples quickly lined up beside us, girls on my side. “It is considered a great honor and good luck to have the first dance of the night with the princess.”

“Maitlan, we’re not-”

A low string note, held for a long time, began the dance. Maitlan bowed low, as did all the men on that side, holding their lady’s hands. A high note answered and, to my right and left, ladies curtseyed. I closed my eyes, broke my no-swearing rule, swore, and curtseyed late, later than everyone else, alone.

A drumbeat kicked in and he tugged me toward him, smiling and laughing while I got twirled about, did my best to keep up and couldn’t, eventually gave up being angry and gave into the fun of prancing around. Stumbling, off-beat, compared to everyone else, I looked like an idiot.

“You really haven’t ever done this?”

He tugged me past him, tugged me around, I nearly tripped, caught my balance and simply stopped and braced myself so that he couldn’t move me anymore. “No, never!” I’d never even been led before and this wasn’t dance for me. Too organized. “Maitlan, please, I need, I need a sit down. Uh, you were right, the mead. Going straight to my head.”

A sullen look on his face, his dance posture dropped back to normal, “Alright. We can sit.”

No idea why I did it, maybe feeling guilty, I kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you for the dance, my lord. Now, take me to the table.”

That brought the happiness back into his face and he led us off the floor. Tables had been arranged to watch the dance floor, food and drink laid on them. Seeing Morry, Brundle and the others, I directed us there.

The big man pulled out a chair and I sat. “Where’s Tread?”

“Dancing with Brin.” He pointed, “Over there.” There they were, the two of them, back and forth over the two starting lines, Tread twirling Brin around, sometimes himself. Unlike the nobles, Tread was bouncing up and down a lot.

“Ah. Is that how it’s done?”

“You’re a terrible dancer. I’ve never seen a princess dance worse.”

I gave him a sideways glance, “Well, yeah. This music, I don’t know the dance.” Maitlan passed me another cup he’d just filled and I smiled at him, took perhaps too long a sip.

“It’s a bad dancer who blames the music.”

“Morry! Hey, that’s a smile!”

“I don’t smile.”

“Yup, a tiny, tiny smile.”

“Never.”

“You totally smiled. And you know what that means?”

“What’s that?”

The mead hit me full force then, the world lurched in a familiar, pleasing way and the words tumbled out of my mouth, “You’ll just have to teach me how to dance.”

“Ha!”

“Ha?”

“I’d blame the music, too, Princess. The only thing I’m good for is fighting. All this dancing is beyond me, I’m afraid.”

“Ah.”

Maitlan, not wanting to miss an opportunity, said, “Let me take you again, my lady. I’ll show you the steps.”

Gun rose from his seat just past Brundle, moved quickly, gracefully, behind my chair. “Your Highness, perhaps it’s time to indulge another?”

He pulled out my chair and I found myself standing, a last glimpse at Morry to see no smile resting on his face, not even a tiny one. “I really don’t, ah-”

“Come. We’ll go slowly. You’ll get the hang of it.”

Another non-assertion of princessly power, I was led by the hand to the dance floor. Perhaps because the princess stepped onto it, the music stopped and a new score began, slower, rhythmic, almost sensual.

Gun positioned me with my back to the table and I was thankful to not see Maitlan probably sulking, Morry back to resting kill face. Gun said, “You start here, I start on this line. Holding your hand, I bow. You curtsey.” We did so and he went on, “I tug you, lead with your right. Excellent!”

He continued calling out directions, which foot to use, when to pivot, twirl, and back and forth we crossed the imaginary lines again and again. A gendered dance, with us transgressing the boundaries. It got easier as we went and, at some point, I began to enjoy myself, this young body, its lithe and quick movements, and soon we were both smiling.

He spun me about and I twirled into his body, my back against him. Hand in hand, his arms over top mine, he said, “Forward with your right, then left, then we pivot on our left foot,” he pulled us in a half circle to the right, pressing his hips against me, “and forward. Ready?”

“Yes?”

He spun me out with my right hand, passed it to his left and pulled me into his body facing him, right hand around my waist. “Gun . . .”

His voice low and husky, eyes looking deep into mine, he pushed slightly against my right hand, palm to palm, “Step back with your right. Now your left. Pause and right step forward. Excellent, you’re doing excellent.”

It was easy to be led by him. He moved with poise and grace and I gave into his motion and we developed a rhythm to the music. Our bodies drifted closer over the song, his thighs pressed up against mine, gently pushing my steps going backward, softly resisting my steps forward, his chest touching mine, a quick pivot, his hand warmly on my back and our cheeks touched, and then he kissed me.

His lips warm against mine, soft, yet forceful, hungry.

I don’t know how, but I planted my left food solidly, stepped around his legs with my right, swung it backward while pushing his chest and Gun went flying onto the ground. Frozen, I stood there, everyone watching. It seemed a long time, standing over the major. All eyes on us. Fighting every urge to run off the dance floor, I gave Gun my hand.

He blinked a few times in surprise, took my hand, but rose of his own power. “My lady, I must . . .”

I walked off, to my seat near Morry. It came to me then. Judo, that was a judo throw. The simplest one they teach you.

Feeling all eyes on me, I forced a smile, picked up a mug, turned to onlookers, raised it, and said, “Again! Another dance!” Clapping, a few cheers, the music resumed.

“Morry. I need some air. Bring the jug.”

***

“Well, I don’t have to beat Gun to a pulp now. You’ve gotten there first, Princess.”

He kissed me. My first kiss. From a boy, I mean. And in this world. No, not true. Saph kissed me. But she, notably, isn’t a boy. God, this felt like high school all over again. His lips were hard against mine and somehow soft. No, no, nope, no! Where did that thought come from, damnit!

“Princess?”

“What? Oh. Yeah. Don’t beat Gun to death.”

“He’s safe from me. It’s the embarrassment going to get him, now.”

“Morry!” I took a long draught. “Damn, I need to drink. Maybe a lot.”

“Well, where is this ‘whiskey’ you’ve been working on?”

I stared at him blankly, wondering why I didn’t make whiskey available for this event. Probably too dangerous to let loose on a party. And I didn’t really have much, yet. But there were only two of us. For two, I had a lot. “Hey, that’s a great idea. Let’s go find it.”

“And leave your coronation party?”

“Do you think anyone will notice?”

“You’re the princess.”

“They’ll notice?”

“They’ll notice your absence, yes.”

“God damnit.”

“Princess, how did you know how to do that move? Tossing Gun to the ground like that.”

Looking up at him, I was overcome, wanted to tell him everything so badly. Where I came from, this body wasn’t mine, yet somehow was now, that I wasn’t the princess. Not his princess. Stepping forward, I placed my little hands on his large one, resting on the hilt at his waist, buried my head into his chest.

“I can’t say . . . I don’t know. It was just automatic.”

“Well, you did it right. That’s your problem with dancing, too.”

“Huh?”

“You couldn’t match your steps to the rhythm because you were trying to move in a fighting gait. Sliding forward, forty-five-degree angles, no steps. It doesn’t work with the music.”

“So, you haven’t been training me to dance this whole time?”

“A lethal dance, perhaps.”

“I’m going to need a better choreographer for these future engagements.”

“Terpsichorean. Not a choreographer. That’s for later, for when you know how to dance and want a performance piece.”

“A what?”

“Terpsichorean. Dance teacher.”

“I’m just going to take your word for that.” I stood back a bit, giving him some space. “Morry?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t beat Gun to death, ok?”

***

Removed from the guests, their ruckus dulled by the distance, I stared at the inner walls of the castle and the lights from the party playing across them. It was easy, being beside the big man and alone, for he knew when silence was best enjoyed.

A real civil war and a potential civil war looming in spring. I’d made up my mind on that, though, we were going to the Barclay Duchy. Either the new weapons would reshape this world, or we’d lose and that would be it for me. And when we left for the campaign, Hafthon would take the duchy. If he and I could not hammer out an agreement, this duchy would also become wayward, with the added problem that he’d be taking all the infrastructure we’d built here for producing weaponry.

The offer from the Laemacians was so very tempting. Their military power would easily take the kingdom, it seemed. Perhaps my kingdom was just a border to the Laemacians and Ketzles, one they each wanted. Marriage to the emperor would put the earls in their place, ensure my survival, and was the safe choice.

Yet it left a bad taste in my mouth. It’d be the renunciation of my independence and person. Safe, yes, but I’d be owned by a man I’d never seen. Once that bargain was struck, there’d be no renegotiation of terms. Though denying him invited invasion by an overwhelming force.

“Morry.”

“Yes?”

“I’m going to tell Etienne.”

The big man turned to me, “Princess, you’ll be risking everything.”

“Brin saw it, my magic, flare up even with the iron.” I held up my hand, its iron ring and bracelet a golden orange in the firelight, appearing broken and uneven as the darker colors blended into shadow.

“Don’t tell him that, keep that secret hidden from the mages.”

“Yes.” And the others, I thought to myself, the ravens and foxes, where I came from. So many secrets, maybe I could unburden myself of one more. “Morry, I . . .”

“If he harms you, Princess, I will kill him. I will find a way.”

That gave me pause. “Make sure you’re holding my sword when you do.”

Footsteps running toward us, Brin shouting, “There you are! Cayce! It’s your birthday and you’re drinking out here alone. All the work I put into your dress, I want to show you off. Come on! Oh! With Morry. Don’t stay here, staring at walls you two, come celebrate!”