Once upon a Spring morn

“Something perhaps you can have on the morrow,” said Celeste, “should Gilles agree.”

“A joint of beef for my famished stomach?” asked Roel, slowly making his way to the bed, his steps now steady.

Celeste laughed. “Mayhap that, too.”

“My lady, would you have me serve?” asked Gerard.

“Non, Gerard, I will do the honors.”

“That will be all, then, my lady?” he asked.

“Oui, Gerard, and thank you.”

The trio started out the door, and Gerard, last, said,

“Oh, and Mam’selle Henriette says she’ll be just outside if you need her.”

Celeste sighed and shook her head.

Roel clambered onto the bed, and as Celeste pulled up the covers and spanned the bed tray across his lap, he said, “You do not seem pleased that Mam’selle Henriette stands at the door.”

“She thinks to guard my virtue,” said Celeste.

“Ah, a chaperone?”

“Oui,” said Celeste, now ladling broth into a bowl,

“though I have not needed one for some while.” Roel raised an eyebrow at this, though the princess’s back was to him.

The bowl now filled, she sat it on his bed tray, along with the croutons and a napkin and spoon, and then stepped back to the sideboard and began pouring tea.

Roel smiled and said, “Although I am sorely wounded and abed-” Celeste glanced at him, and Roel pressed the back of his right hand to his forehead and feigned terrible weakness and emitted a prolonged sigh-

Celeste broke out in giggles and said, “You make me laugh, Roel, and I love that in a man.” Roel beamed, but continued: “-We should have one, Princess-a chaperone, I mean-for I would not sully your reputation.”

As if to herself Celeste smiled and faintly shook her head, then laughed again. “Henriette was scandalized when I had you installed in this bedchamber.” Roel looked about. “What is special about this room?”

“It adjoins mine,” said Celeste, nodding at a door on the far wall as she dropped a dollop of honey in each cup of tea and stirred, “and is meant for my husband.” Chapfallen, Roel now truly sighed and glumly said,

“Then you are married, Princess?”

“Non. I should have said it is for my husband-to-be.”

“You are engaged, then,” said Roel.

Celeste placed a cup of tea on the bed tray and then stepped to the sideboard for her own. She turned and took a slow sip, her green eyes fixed on him. She set the cup back in the saucer and said, “Non, I’m not engaged.

Nor am I currently involved.”

“Magnifique!” exclaimed Roel, a great smile lighting his face, but then he flushed. “Er, that is, not that I have, um, aspirations, oh, my, I meant. .” Roel’s words dribbled away, and he studiously peered into his broth.

Celeste’s mouth twitched in a brief grin, and then she took a deep breath and asked, “And you, Roel, have you someone waiting for you?”

Roel looked up at the princess, a tentative smile on his face. “Non.”

Celeste’s own features broke into a glorious smile.

“Bon!”

Her green eyes looked into his grey, his grey into her green, and, as if the aethyr itself tingled in anticipation, there came between them an unspoken understanding: he would woo her.

Yet grinning and ignoring the spoon, Roel took up the broth and downed it in one long gulp. He held the bowl out to Celeste and said, “More, please.” As she replenished the vessel, he popped croutons into his mouth and happily crunched away.

4

Quest

For his second bowl of broth, Roel used a spoon, but he had taken only a taste or two when he frowned and set it aside.

“What is it, my handsome?” asked Celeste, a faint smile warring with concern on her face. “Why the grim look?”

“Oh, Princess, I just realized, the moment I am fit enough, I will have to leave you.”

“Leave me?”

“Oui. My quest. I must find Avelaine and Laurent and Blaise. -Rescue them, I think.”

Celeste sighed, now recalling what he had said-

When was that? Just three days past? It seems much longer. “Tell me of this mission, Roel.” Roel took a deep breath and slowly released it, and he gazed out the window as if seeking an answer somewhere in the glitter of distant stars beyond. Then he turned to Celeste and said, “I am the youngest son of Sir Emile and Lady Simone. I have two brothers and a sister. Laurent is the eldest, Blaise follows him, our sister, Avelaine, comes next in birth order, and, of course, I am last. And ever since I can remember, Avelaine and I have been as dear to one another as a brother and sister can be.”

Roel paused, his gaze lost in memory. Finally he shrugged and said, “Regardless, nearly seven years past, Avelaine was given to long restless rides, for she was sore beset by our parents. They had arranged a marriage for her to someone she did not wish to wed, and she had wanted to flee ere that day, but she knew it was her duty to follow our parents’ pact with the parents of the groom. And so instead of running away, she rode off from the manor to escape the words of our pere and mere and to struggle with her feelings. Always I accompanied her, for I thought she might need, not only the mostly silent companionship of someone who sympathized with her, but also someone to protect her from brigands, should any be lurking about.” Roel faintly smiled. “Not that there were ever any on our estate, but you see, I was a squire at the time-no longer a boy but not yet a man-and in training to become a knight, for I would follow in the steps of Laurent and Blaise, both of whom had won their spurs apast. And so, I went along as her guardian, though I did not tell her that.

“We rode to the outskirts of my sire’s estate, where deep in the forest there lie the ruins of an ancient temple. Perhaps once it had been mighty, but these days it is nought but a tumble of rock, a place our vassals shunned; even the woodcutters didn’t go near. Nevertheless, Avelaine and I were out there, and at that time neither of us knew just who or what might have been worshipped therein. . ”

Roel slashed and thrust at the air with his rapier to deal with an imaginary foe. Only half-watching, Avelaine sat on a block of stone. “Oh, Roel, why did they have to choose Maslin? It’s not that he isn’t a fine fellow, but for me he has no, um, no spark.”

Roel paused in his duel with the air and cocked an eyebrow at his raven-haired sister. “No spark?”

“He does not move me,” said Avelaine.

“Move you?”

A look of exasperation filled Avelaine’s blue eyes.

“He does not stir my heart.”

“Ah, I see,” said Roel, returning to his battle with the invisible foe.

Avelaine sat in glum thought, gazing at, but not seeing, their two horses placidly cropping grass nearby. Finally, she heaved a great sigh and said, “Oh, I wish I were anywhere but in this time and place.”

“Take care, sister of mine,” said Roel as he continued to slash at the air, “for you know not what magic these old ruins might hold.”

“Oh, would that they did,” said Avelaine, “for then I would be gone from here.” She hopped down from the stone block and turned to look at the tumble, nought but a vine-covered wrack with thistles growing among the remains. As if seeing them for the first time, Avelaine strolled around the remnants, circling widdershins in the light