5
“Oh my?” asked Liaze as she and Zoe strode toward the manor, the princess bearing her unstrung bow and the arrow-filled quiver. her
“What?” asked Zoe.
“You said, ‘He’s awake, and oh my.’ ”
“Oh, that. All I meant is that he is witty and charming and more handsome than ever. Why, he even has Tutrice Martine giggling like a jeune fille. ”
“Has he a name?”
“If he said it, Princess, I was not present at the time.”
“Has he said why he was in the Autumnwood, or ought about the Goblins?”
Zoe shook her head. “Non. Zacharie is waiting for you before asking.”
“Where?”
“They are in the blue room, my lady.”
“Then run and fetch Remy, for I would have him present when the chevalier tells his tale.”
As Zoe hied away, Liaze strode on and found herself wondering what she should wear to meet the man who had called her his angel.
Liaze took a quick bath and chose a flowing russet dress with a yellow bodice, russet laces crisscrossing, the yellow so faint as to seem nearly white. She wore a light yellow, ruffle-trimmed pettiskirt beneath. Russet silken slippers shod her yellow-stockinged feet and peeked from under the hem. Zoe combed out the princess’s long auburn tresses, and upon her head she placed a circlet of gold, inset with a yellow diamond.
“Now for the earrings, my lady,” said Zoe, “do you prefer the-”
“Zoe, it’s not as if I am trying to impress this fellow, you know.”
“Oh, aren’t you?” said Zoe, feigning innocence.
“In fact, I think this circlet is too ostentatious,” said Liaze, removing the golden ring.
“Oh, but my lady, you are a princess and must wear something denoting such. It’s your station, you know. Besides, it will draw his eyes to your face and hair and-”
Zoe took up another circlet, this one twined ’round with small yellow ivy leaves, with russet and yellow ribbons falling down the back.
“Zoe! That’s for the harvest dance.”
Zoe groaned in frustration, then said, “Well, what about a ribbon or two twined through your locks?”
Liaze sighed and glanced in the mirror and said, “Oh, very well.”
In moments Zoe had fixed pale yellow ribbons among Liaze’s auburn tresses in such a way as to not bind the hair but let it flow gracefully-the ribbons flowing gracefully as well-with every movement of the princess.
Liaze stood and turned before the mirror, the dress belling out from her slim waist and down over slender hips to hang in elegant folds. Her breasts were high, pushed up by the bodice, though not immodestly so.
Zoe stepped back and eyed the result. “Oh, my lady, you are beautiful beyond compare.”
Liaze smiled unto herself, for she, too, was pleased.
“Princess, a necklace would-”
Liaze shook her head. “No, no more jewelry, other than this.” She held up her right hand, her ring finger graced by a wide gold band, with a ruby carved in the shape of a maple leaf and inset in a heavy golden collet, tiny sculpted heads of grain circling ’round.
She glanced at herself once more in the mirror, then said, “Now to the blue room to hear what this knight has to say.”
Liaze stepped to the door and out, Zoe trailing after. “Am I to go with you, my lady?”
“Yes, but only to usher away any company that might be hanging about. I think the chevalier would feel more comfortable telling his tale to just Zacharie, Remy, and me, rather than among a giggling and sighing bevy of women.”
“Last I saw, my lady, only Tutrice Martine, Healer Margaux, and Aurelie were there, though several others had been with him earlier. But for Aurelie, Margaux shooed the gaggle out, yet Martine wouldn’t go.”
“If necessary, I’ll deal with Martine,” said Liaze.
Down one of the two staircases in the welcoming hall they stepped, and turned rightward at the bottom, for the blue room was in a wing opposite from the infirmary.
Past members of the staff they went, men bowing, women curtseying, all looking after Liaze as she swept by, for they were used to seeing her in leathers or work clothes, and only on special occasions did she dress as a princess should-or so many of them opined.
Whispers followed her along the corridor:
Oh, my.
Stunning.
Belle.
They came to the door of the blue room, and Liaze paused a moment and glanced at her reflection in the pane of an outer window. Then she stepped within.
Zacharie leapt to his feet, as did Remy. Margaux, Aurelie, and Tutrice Martine stood as well. In a chair facing the doorway sat the black-haired young man, and his deep-blue eyes flew wide at the sight of her and he blurted, “I thought you but a dream.”
6
Even as Liaze blushed, and behind her Zoe gave a joyful laugh, the knight got to his feet, somewhat gingerly and wincing a bit, and bowed along with Zacharie and Remy. Martine, Aurelie, and Margaux curtseyed, Aurelie and Margaux smiling broadly, Martine with a neutral look upon her matronly features.
Liaze acknowledged them all with a nod as she came into the room, a room with pale blue walls and heavily padded blue velvet chairs trimmed in white and arranged for conversation nigh a large fireplace. Against one wall stood a black oak sideboard. On another wall a black oak escritoire sat open, with quills and parchment and an inkwell at hand, as well as a few books on the shelf above, and an armless blue velvet chair waiting for someone to sit and take pen in hand and write.
As Liaze stepped in among the gathering, Zacharie said, “Princess Liaze, may I present Sieur Luc, knight- errant. Chevalier Luc, Princess Liaze of the Autumnwood.”
Dressed in black boots and a black silken shirt open at the neck and black trews held by a silver-buckled black belt, Luc stepped forward and again bowed, once more wincing a bit, stray locks of his shoulder-length ebon hair falling down ’round his face, though the bandage on his forehead and wrapped about held most of it back. Liaze extended her right hand, and Luc took it in his and kissed her fingers. When he straightened up-not quite a head taller than she-he looked down into her amber eyes with his of indigo blue, and a thrill shot through Liaze and she almost did not hear him say, “Princess, I truly did think you but a wishful dream, and I am so happy to find that you are quite real. But here I must correct an assumption: I am not a knight, though someday I hope to win my spurs.”
Both Remy and Zacharie seemed taken aback, but Liaze said, “Pfah! Given what you have done for my demesne, a knight you surely are.”
“But, my lady-”
“Remy, your sword,” said Liaze, holding out her hand.
Remy placed the rapier in Liaze’s hand.
“Kneel, Luc,” said Liaze.
Wincing and with Zacharie’s help, Luc managed to get down on one knee, and Liaze touched him on each
