In Which the Princess Grows Desperate

From the diary of Dulcie, Crown Princess of Bentlefay

Having seen nothing of Lynde in days, it seems, aside from the back of her head and an occasional glimpse of whatever sock she is working on, I became desperate yesterday afternoon and asked if I could go down to the barracks with her today and watch her practice. All I thought was that it is the one place she goes in a day where Lady Marta can’t follow her and talk about knitting, but by the reaction of the room you would have thought I asked her to direct me to the best brothel in the city. Winnie put a hand to her own forehead as though she was suffering a fever and pretended to faint over the arm of her chair; Lady Marta let out a squeak and a giggle, and then turned a deep glowing puce when she realized I was serious; and Lynde herself stared at me with her mouth open for quite twenty seconds as though I had grown another head.

“You know, you can just refuse if it’s going to bother you that much,” I said when the embarrassed silence had gone on long enough. “It’s just an idea; I wouldn’t want to disturb you for the world.”

Lynde smiled, a little kindly, it seemed, which was irritating, although it may just have been the mood I was in.

“Certainly not, your majesty – it would be my pleasure.” She frowned. “Only…you know I practice in the morning, don’t you?”

“Really, I had gathered that much since you do it every day.”

“And that there are a great many men in the neighborhood of the barracks?”

“I think I can keep my hands off them if I put my mind to it.” I couldn’t resist a sideways glance at Lady Marta. She happened to have her eyes on her knitting, but Lynde noticed and looked puzzled.

“Are you feeling all right, your majesty?”

“Fine,” I snapped, “I just wish you wouldn’t behave like I’m asking you to take me drinking in the university district, or … whatever it is you’re behaving like.”

“I certainly didn’t mean to offend you.” She was looking patient now. “I will come and wake you once I’m dressed in the morning and remember, if you’re too sleepy, you don’t have to go.”

“For the love of cats, what do I look like, a princess?” The changing bell rang then and we all jumped. “I will be awake AND dressed tomorrow morning by the time you are. Rely on it,” I added and fairly raced out of the room before I said anything really stupid.

Of course it goes without saying that I was neither awake nor dressed when Lynde came to fetch me this morning. Time and the cold gray dawn had gone a long way toward wearing down my irritation and I had to referee a serious internal struggle between my pride and my sloth. In fact I was staring pitifully up at her from my pillow, trying to remember how to form the words “go ahead without me” and failing abjectly, when she patted my hand like a nursemaid.

“That’s all right,” she said soothingly. “You go back to sleep, and I’ll see you and Lady Marta later in the morning.”

That woke me up with a bang and I discovered my intelligence.

“No indeed.” I was quite proud of how much like my voice I managed to sound. With what seemed like every vestige of physical strength I could spare, I heaved myself out of bed and across the room to the clothes press. In fact my momentum took me smack into the door of it, which worked out well because the pain jarred me right into alertness. “Help me with these riding clothes, would you? I’m sorry I overslept.”

There was bread and cheese and ale laid out on the tables in the hall, just the bare sight of which made me feel sick, but Lynde absorbed her breakfast with enjoyment so I set myself to choke down a piece of dry crust. The hall was buzzing with people, mostly Father’s gentlemen getting ready to go out hunting, although Winnie was there looking as inexplicably fresh as a daisy. She came over to us and apologized handsomely for teasing me the day before.

“You see I can get up in the morning if I put my mind to it,” I said, not quite ready to make friends.

“Oh,” she answered airily, “you can do anything if you put your mind to it. I’ve always known that. Have a good time – maybe you’ll even find you enjoy it.”

Nothing seemed less likely, which I suppose showed on my face because Winnie started to laugh. “Have a good time,” she repeated, and went out to the kitchen.

Breakfast had given me time to realize how tired I was and I trailed resentfully after Lynde to the barracks. It was freezing out and I couldn’t feel my fingers in my gloves, although she was gloveless and hoodless, swinging along with her head high and the color mantling in her cheeks.

“You know, I quite liked you,” I muttered, which made her stop in her tracks and burst out laughing.

“I don’t know when I’ve ever seen anyone so miserable over something they did to themselves,” she said when the paroxysm passed. “Honestly, your majesty, you don’t have to do this. Go back to bed and we’ll act as though it never happened.”

“If you can pretend to try and kill someone after waking up at dawn, then surely I can summon the energy to sit calmly in the stands and watch you,” I retorted. “Besides, I’m interested. What if I wanted to learn to do it myself?”

This made her laugh again, to the point where she had to put her hands on her knees and catch her breath. I stalked over to a bench and sat there in high dudgeon, ignoring everyone, but Lynde didn’t even appear to notice that I was offended. I sat there watching her practice with the men until the cold and boredom overtook me and then slunk ignominiously away. Nobody stopped me, or even seemed to care.