Her gaze focused distantly, then Bethany produced a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. Her father slid his arm around her.
Nathaniel stood. 'Please be thanking the Missus for the tea. Hain't never had better.'
'Wait, Mr. Woods.'
Hettie Frost had returned, and behind her came a man dressed very fancy, complete with a powdered wig, white hose, white gloves, and luxurious moustaches. Hettie turned to her guest. 'This is Mr. Woods.'
'Pleased to meet you, Mr. Woods.' The man's Norillian came clipped and precise, with an accent he couldn't quite place. 'I am pleased to be Count Joachim von Metternin.'
'I imagine you are.'
'We have just arrived today. We have asked after a team of horses for our coach. At the livery, I admired your mount and was told it belonged to Prince Vladimir. They said you had come to town to deliver a message to the Frost family.'
Nathaniel nodded. 'Done and delivered.'
'Then I should beg of you an indulgence.' From inside his white and gold brocade jacket, the man produced an envelope. 'This is a message to the Prince. If you would deliver it, we would be most grateful.'
Nathaniel accepted the sealed packet of papers. 'I'll be putting it in the Prince's hand straight away.'
'Very good, thank you.' Von Metternin smiled. 'And please tell him that my lady awaits his reply, and is very pleased to be his wife.'
Chapter Thirty-Four
August 16, 1763
Prince Haven
Temperance Bay, Mystria
'S he is my what?' The Prince stared at the packet Nathaniel offered. His mouth had gone dry and he didn't want to accept the packet. 'Wait, just wait.'
When Nathaniel found the Prince and Kamiskwa in the Prince's laboratory, the two of them were working on the miniature model of du Malphias' fortress. Kamiskwa was cutting and carving sticks into the right length for the palisade wall while the Prince was shaping clay into an approximation of the terrain. Grey-brown mud coated his hands and streaked his apron.
The Prince looked about for a cloth upon which he could wipe his hands, and settled for the hem of his apron. 'You obviously know more than you're telling.'
Nathaniel couldn't hide his smile. 'Well, 'pears the packet boat Swift limped into North Portland up Summerland. Lost the main mast in a storm. Two weeks late or so. Boys down to the docks mentioned it. I figure the wedding notice must be on it.'
'You're probably right.' The Prince rubbed his forehead and realized too late he'd smeared clay on it. 'Blast and damn. It's one thing to tell me I'm to be married, but to only send notice bare weeks before the woman sets sail?'
He looked at his hands and then wiped them on his pants. 'Please, the missive.'
Nathaniel handed it over and the Prince broke the seal. Inside he found three smaller packets, each similarly sealed. He opened the one from the Home Minister, Duke Marbury. It had been folded in thirds and thirds again, but imprecisely a mark of the slovenly attention to detail which described Marbury.
Vlad scanned it quickly. He groaned and tossed the other two onto his desk, hoping they would be disappear. 'This is not good.'
'I would never pry, Highness.'
Vlad laughed. 'Typical Marbury. 'If it pleases you, Highness…' Of course it does not please me, but I haven't anything of a choice in the matter. My aunt, in her wisdom, has decided that having the Kingdom of Kesse-Saxeburg join an alliance focused on Tharyngia is to her benefit. Granting that Kessians are the most martial of the Teutonic nations this might not be a bad idea, but she's determined to solidify this alliance by marrying me off to Princess Gisella. The child is half my age, doubtlessly has been schooled in needlepoint and blushing on cue, and has been raised in a world filled with creature comforts the like of which have never reached these shores.'
Nathaniel cracked a sunflower seed and fed the meat to the Prince's caged raven. 'Well, you could marry her to Kamiskwa here, and then take his sister as your wife. Your aunt would be getting two alliances instead of just one.'
'Msitazi would demand Mugwump as a brideprice, so that would not work.' He looked at the note again, then frowned. 'Did you see her?'
'Not exactly, Highness. She was being loaded on a barge…'
'A barge!'
'Weren't like they was using a crane to unload her.' Nathaniel smiled. 'Never did get a clean look at her. Her carriage is a grand thing. Gold and white, like the man what delivered the note.'
'What was he like?'
'Dressed fancy. Needed a barge just for his mustachios. Count Joachim von Metternin said his name was. Polite as can be.' Nathaniel smiled. 'Gave me a pound to deliver the message.'
Vlad's eyes narrowed. He tapped a finger against his teeth, then tasted clay. 'Von Metternin. The name is familiar.'
'He was hoping for a return message fast.'
'I'll have one in the morning. I'll send Baker. I need you here to help with the model.' Vlad raked fingers back through his hair, streaking it. 'My aunt seeks to save her empire by this marriage, but she distracts me from the real work that will preserve it.'
Kamiskwa whittled a point on a stick. 'This princess could bear you strong sons.'
The Prince opened his arms wide. 'I do not need children here. I am a man of science. Yes, the Tharyngian revolution has made that a most malevolent prospect, but their perversion of the process does not invalidate it. My studies have advanced our understanding of the world. I have identified plants with medicinal properties. I have found a strain of potato that grows larger than others and resists rot. I am learning things every day about wurms. I don't need a distraction.'
Kamiskwa nodded, sliding his obsidian knife into its sheath. 'Many a warrior has said the same. My father points out where they are wrong. They want to make the world safe. You want to make the world better. For whom? You try hard now. When it is for your child, you will try harder.'
Vlad blinked.
Nathaniel smiled. 'Annoying, ain't he, Highness?'
'Very.' The Prince shook his head. 'And, alas, he may be correct. I do not like this turn of events, but since I can do nothing to avert it, I shall have to hope for the best possible outcome.'
The Prince, in order to better formulate his reply, opened the note from Count von Metternin. It had been folded with great precision. The script came in a strong hand and the lines ran straight across the page. Vlad used a square to confirm this. The Count had the pleasure of introducing the Princess, a relation of distant sanguinity, whom he had the pleasure of knowing for many years. The note went on to praise her in glowing but less than hyperbolic terms. Vlad felt this grew out of genuine affection for the girl instead of an attempt to cover up flaws.
Vlad turned to his library to track down why the name von Metternin seemed familiar. The family had been ennobled for many generations, the progenitor of which had performed a great service to the Holy Remian Emperor centuries past. It was in Rivendell's Villerupt, however, where Vlad found a direct reference to Joachim von Metternin. The Kessian had been an observer with Tharyngian forces and, on the fourth day, had assumed command of a battalion to which he had been attached. Their officer corps had been devastated, but he organized the battalion and put up stiff resistance. They fought their way free of the town of Planchain and a potential Norillian encirclement led by John Rivendell. Rivendell's book had nothing good to say of the man, which caused Vlad no end of comfort.
Vlad composed a cordial but formal reply, inviting the Count alone to visit him and spend the next night. He
