In Which Lynde and the Princess Have a Discussion

Lynde Falconer to Thomas Crowder

Dear Tom,

I hope you are well and less troubled by discontent than you were when I heard from you last. We have had a most interesting time here with the visitors from Marshweather, but it appears to be drawing to a close as I understand the treaties are on the way south. You may even see the caravan up in Dumcruckle -- since they are coming in peace this time there will of course be no reason for them to sneak down through Hingbach like they did before. It will be nice to share this bit of history with you even at such a far distance.

Prince Hugo and Lady Marta and the captains have been unexceptionable guests, in spite of their recent enmity to us. Prince Hugo is a stout and honorable fighter at practice although he relies far too much on strength; he says that strength was enough for him in so many fights that there was no reason for him to apply any skill to the matter. I thought to teach him some of the unarmed combat that Rafe has taught me, just as a favor, but he demurred on the grounds that all that was behind him. He says he will be sticking to diplomacy and statesmanship from now on, having been thoroughly convinced of the importance of those matters by the example of King Davin and Queen Christina. Of course he has no discernible brains for that sort of thing and I shudder to think what will happen to Marshweather's tax code when he gets home, but at least he comes at it in good faith and if he isn't wise, I feel sure he will try to be fair.

Lady Marta Figglesworth has been rather a tiring guest but quite kind and cheerful. She seems to talk without stopping from the moment she opens her eyes in the morning until she falls asleep at night, and generally about nothing in particular, although one can't ignore her altogether as with some people like that since she very occasionally does say something pertinent and I feel awfully rude when I wake up to it after a minute or two and have to ask her to go back and say it again. She has taught me a very useful sock technique with which I was unfamiliar, and which I like so much that it almost makes up for all the nonsense. Tell Father I am knitting him a new pair of high woolen stockings -- two at once!

I had thought our guests would be good for the princess and she seemed to take Prince Hugo in her stride, but her behavior has been very peculiar since the arrival of Lady Marta, whom she clearly loathes but seems for some reason to feel she must feign respect toward. The princess has never been much for sweetness and light in the best of times, but especially in the morning – I don't generally see her until I get back from the barracks, at which time she is barely awake and sits with an untouched tisane, staring balefully at the wall. She is rather like you in that respect, in fact, so imagine my astonishment when she suddenly asked to come watch me practice. Actually "asked" is rather a misnomer as she barked out a demand as though she were challenging someone to a duel. I never expected her to go through with it but she came with me this morning and sat through at least half the practice hating every minute of it.

She was gone by the time I finished and I thought the matter was closed, but this evening before the receiving she burst into my room belligerently just as I was changing my gown. I have never found it very comfortable to have a conversation when in dishabille, especially with someone who is angry, and the princess seemed very angry indeed for no reason that I could fathom.

“Look here,” she said. “I want you to teach me how to fight.”

None of the parts seemed to go together – her being in my room at that time of day in the first place, and talking about fighting at all in the second place, and being so curt about something she’s never so much as mentioned in the third. I suppose that was why I was a little slow on the uptake.

“…what?”

She gave a snort of pure frustration. “Turn around and let me lace your gown, for heaven’s sake. You look like a madwoman, and maybe it will push some blood into your brain.”

I obeyed, and she began to yank the laces tight one by one. “Would you mind repeating yourself, your majesty?” I asked. “I’m afraid I didn’t quite catch.”

“I said –” and here she hauled on the laces murderously to emphasize her point “– I want you to teach me how to fight.”

“Hrp,” I exclaimed. “That’s rather tighter than I usually do it myself.”

“Sorry.” She sighed, and began to redo the whole business from the beginning.

“There,” I said when I was feeling more normally dressed. “Now, what was it you wanted?”

She clasped her hands in a posture of supplication totally at odds with her normal demeanor.

“Oh, Lynde, won’t you teach me how to fight? You were going to teach Prince Hugo. And I’m so sick of going for walks and nothing else. And besides, I feel like I never see you anymore.”

I blinked. “I see you from midmorning until bedtime with occasional interruptions for changing clothes,” I pointed out. “How much more is there?”

“But I never talk to you. Lady Mar – someone else is always talking.”

That was certainly true.

“Besides, wouldn’t it be a good idea? You say you want to go home and get married eventually, and then I’ll be right back where I was if I don’t learn to take care of myself.”

“There is that.” I gave her a pretty hard look, but she seemed serious and she had a point. “Well, all right. We’ll do it in the afternoons, when the men are at their archery. That way we can have the ring to ourselves, and in any case, I don’t think getting up in the morning agrees with you much.”

She went down to the receiving in a better frame of mind and got herself off to bed early – in fact, I think this is the first time since I got here that I’m awake later than the princess. Upon thinking over what she said, I begin to feel like I ought to have thought of it myself. The sewing in the solar has become rather a soliloquy lately, and once I earn enough to buy the Angel farm the princess will be back on her own, and should learn to be more self-reliant.

I admit that thought causes me a touch of sadness. Much as I miss you and long for our future to start, I will be sorry to leave here, and my newfound friends and duties. Ah, well – I suppose I am more fortunate than most.

Your loving,
Lynde