“Sometimes it is hard to know right from wrong,” Alisande said, “and one step to the wrong can begin a long slide to perdition and tyranny. What of our children, husband? How can we prevent them from becoming like those boys?”
“By being as loving to one another and to them as we can,” Matt said, remembering his own parents. “I don’t think the Bretanglian princes learned insulting and pettiness on their own, after all. They tend to do what they see their parents do.”
“There’s truth in that,” Alisande said somberly. “I’ve never seen a man who matched that Gaheris for pure malice. How could the Prince of Toulenge ever have betrothed his daughter to such a one?”
Matt shrugged. “She was only ten at the time, and I suspect Gaheris looked a lot better at fourteen. Only his parents and the servants knew the truth then.”
“And perhaps he had not begun to be such a monster, when he had little power.” Alisande sighed. “Poor Rosamund! How she must have suffered in that household!”
“You don’t mean she was raised with that family!”
“It is the custom for the fiancée to dwell with her new kin-folk as soon as they are betrothed, husband.” Alisande gave him a sad smite, to reassure him for not knowing all her people’s customs yet. “She must learn the ways of her new land, you see.”
“A ten-year-old girl, being torn away from home and raised among strangers?” Matt shuddered “At least Petronille kept her close by her side.”
“So you felt that, too?”
“Oh, yes. Besides, she had some ladies from Toulenge for company, didn’t she?”
“Aye, but King Drustan sent them all packing. He could not send Sir Orizhan away, but the ladies he could, and did.”
“I’ve been wondering where he came into the picture. You don’t expect to find a man with a southern Merovencian accent living with the Bretanglian royal family. So he was part of the entourage that delivered little Rosamund to Bretanglia?”
“He was appointed as her bodyguard,” Alisande told him. “However, King Drustan claimed that there was no need for such while the little lady lived under his protection.”
“But he couldn’t send a knight away when he was under orders from his own duke?”
“Not without grievous insult to his new kinsman, no. Instead, Drustan assigned Sir Orizhan to tutoring his own sons in chivalry, and to keeping them from harm.”
“Broadened his assignment from one child to four, eh?” Matt frowned “Could be that worked out for the best If he kept an eye on the princes, he could make sure they didn’t bother Rosamund too much.”
“There is that saving grace,” Alisande agreed “However, since she is so very reserved, it would appear there were times when he could not protect her.”
“Sure—whenever King Drustan or Queen Petronille were there. Maybe the queen dotes on her sons a bit more than she seems to.”
“I would say she does not seem to dote at all,” Alisande said tartly, “except for her favorite, and he has not turned out so badly.”
“Brion? Yeah, he does seem to have some sense of right and wrong. I have to give the code of chivalry that much credit. Of course, his brothers know right from wrong, too. They just happen to choose Wrong.”
“John makes my skin crawl,” Alisande said with a shudder. “No doubt I wrong him—he seems harmless enough, in spite of his constant whining…”
“Not smart enough to be any danger? Hey, I’ve known some pretty dumb monsters, dear.”
“Perhaps,” Alisande allowed, “but it is not his fault that his face is a mass of pimples and his body inclined to plumpness.”
“Still, it doesn’t exactly speak of good hygiene or healthy habits,” Matt pointed out. “How anyone who claims to practice swordplay out in the tilting yard so much can still have a pasty complexion with a poolroom pallor, I can’t understand.”
“He certainly seems to be a horrid little man.” Alisande frowned. “What is a ‘poolroom’?”
“A place for indoor recreation, dear, like the board games that keep our knights from chopping each other to bits during the winter.”
“Only chess and the like?” Alisande smiled up at him. “I had hoped for another form of indoor recreation tonight. I need the consolation badly.”
“Well, I hope I don’t do badly with my consolation.” Matt leaned down to kiss her—but before his lips touched hers, there was a knock at the door.
Alisande’s lips went stiff. Matt froze for a second, then straightened with a sigh. “I could wish that the world would leave us alone for a day or two.”
“I would be glad of an hour!” Alisande turned her chair to the door and sat, squaring her shoulders. “Enter!”
Lady Dulcet opened the door and stepped in, her face drawn and pale. “Your pardon, Majesty, but Sir Orizhan is come from town with urgent news…”
Alisande whirled to snatch up her robe and slip her arms through the sleeves. “Bid him enter!”
Lady Dulcet stepped aside with an air of relief. Sir Orizhan entered, stiffly erect, face taut with strain. He fell to one knee. “My liege!”
“I am, and great is the loyalty of one who remembers such when he has sojourned nearly ten years in a foreign court,” Alisande assured him. “Whatever your news, speak it straight out, no matter how grim!”
Sir Orizhan braced himself even more. “It regards Prince Gaheris.”
Alisande stiffened “What of him?”
“There … there was a brawl in a tavern,” Sir Orizhan told her. “The prince sought to defend the honor of a maiden, and… in the melee…”
Alisande started out of her chair. “How badly is he hurt?”
“The worst, Majesty. He… he is…”
“Not dead!”
“I fear so, Your Majesty.” Sir Orizhan bowed his head as though waiting for the headsman’s axe.
Alisande sank back in her chair with a moan. She started to bow her head into her hand, then caught herself, unwilling to show such a sign of weakness even to her closest lady-in-waiting.
Matt rested a hand on her shoulder. “I think we should take a few minutes in private, to consider the news.”
“Indeed!” Alisande said. “I thank you, Sir Orizhan. Please leave us now.”
The knight rose and started to back away, then hesitated. “I must tell Their Majesties of Bretanglia.”
“You must not.” Alisande sat straight again. “I shall tell them—yet I must have a few minutes to consider the way of it. Leave us.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” For a moment Sir Orizhan’s emotional armor cracked enough to show great relief, and Matt was sure he would be even more loyal to Alisande in the future. The knight backed out, closing the door behind him.
Alisande folded in on herself, letting her head sink into her hands with a groan.
“Yes.” Matt rested both hands on her shoulders, trying to ignore his sudden queasiness. “What a mess! I could almost feel sorry for Gaheris “
“I, too, had he not brewed such a coil for us by his passing.” Alisande straightened, slamming one fist on the table-top. “Why could he not have stayed within the castle for his amusements!”
“Because his idea of fan was the kind of thing you’d start a war to prevent,” Matt said grimly.
“Start a war indeed! We shall be most fortunate if his parents do not declare war on Merovence on the instant!” Alisande stood up slowly, shoulders bearing up bravely against the invisible mantle of authority with its huge weight of responsibility. “Let us face them now.”
In only her robe and slippers, she went out into the hall and turned toward the chambers reserved for guests of state. Three steps down the hall and they could hear the muted voices shouting at one another, though they couldn’t understand the words.