“Little girl?” I asked, trying to keep my voice only politely interested while my heart thudded away in a fit.
“Charme’s daughter. Galantha. Beautiful little girl,” he sighed. “She was about ten when William died. Charme ascended the throne, of course, and everyone was after him to get married again and produce an heir. Put it off a couple of years before he finally married Ilene. Not long after that the little girl got lost in the mountains. Eaten by beasts, they say. No one mentions her anymore, as hearing her name upsets His Highness.”
“He’s been married to Ilene for how long?” I asked. Giles, next to me, was listening to this conversation with great interest.
“Oh, it would be thirty-some-odd years now, wouldn’t it? He was twenty or so when he came back. Around thirty-two when he ascended the throne. He must be seventy now. I’m almost ninety, which is a dreadful great age for a man.”
“His wife looks very young,” I said, casually, as though it didn’t matter.
“Holds her looks,” he agreed. “I’m told her family always has held its looks.”
“A neighboring kingdom?” I suggested.
He snorted. “Marvella has no neighboring kingdoms, Lady Lavender. Except maybe Nadenada, and it’s not really neighboring. We’re a what-you-call-it, a holdover, a survival. Some crusader did a favor for the King of Aragon, I think it was, or maybe the King of Navarre. Whoever-it-was rewarded him by making him hereditary Prince of cowplop and sheepclip. The main road over the mountains is that way,” and he waved toward the west, opposite to the direction we’d arrived from. “People used to have to hire porters to carry them down into the gorge, across the river, then up the other side. Prince William used Mama’s money to build a marvelous bridge across the gorge, and now Ponte Marvella makes its living charging tolls. From pilgrims, mostly. Going down from France to Santiago.” He sighed heavily. “I told Richard when he started all the fuss that if he wanted to risk his life taking over something, it should at least be something worth taking. Marvella isn’t much.”
I saw Ilene’s eyes fixed on my aged informer, a tiny frown between her brows. He was talking too much, too intently, so I laughed with great vivacity, as though he had told me a funny story. Her glance went on past, like the course of a comet, burning ice.
We drank wine. We ate fruit and nuts. We retired to another room and played at cards for a time. The cards were from Germany and were printed, unlike the painted ones I was accustomed to in that time. The Prince enthusiastically told me how it was done, how the blocks of wood were carved and then painted with ink and pressed onto the paper. I wondered if Gutenberg was at this moment playing at games and being inspired by the unknown carver of playing cards. Printing would be invented very shortly, and one thing always led to another. I put the thought down resolutely and paid attention to my hand.
We learned a Spanish game in which players put together “bodies,” that is combinations of six cards making up a head, two arms, two legs, and a torso, and then cried “Hombre” to the others as they put down the man entire. It wasn’t unlike rummy, which I had played with Bill in the twentieth, so I learned it rapidly. Giles caught on very quickly, too, and I was glad to see that he had the same sense I did that it would not be wise for either of us to win anything at all from the Princess.
Christine de Pisan hadn’t covered the subject of manners around royalty, but Aunt Lavender had. No one could leave until the Prince and Princess left, and they seemed determined to spend the night taking everyone’s money. At last the Prince yawned, everyone stood up, and the royal couple departed. One of the earls fluttered about settling accounts. I paid what we had lost, only enough to be polite, no large amount. I said good night to the baron, my dinner companion, who was half asleep in his chair by the fire, then Giles and I went up to our rooms, where yawning servants waited our arrival and tankards of wash water steamed gently before the fires. I told the maidservant she could go on to bed, that I’d take care of myself after I had taken my cat out. She did not like to let me go alone, but I insisted, and when she had gone I put on my cloak, with Grumpkin in the pocket, and let myself out an unlocked side door.
I waited about near the stables while Grumpkin found a place that suited him. When he had finished, he went back in my pocket while we strolled about, seeing what was to be seen. All the lights in the castle were out except in one squatty tower, which was so close to the precipice it seemed to hang over it, like a vulture perched on a branch. The tower abutted the flat roof of the castle, so I slipped on the boots—when I wasn’t wearing them, I habitually kept them in the deep pocket of my cloak—and went there in one step, interested in knowing who was still up, and why.
The room opened upon the roof through a casement window which stood ajar. Inside the Princess sat at a table brushing her hair. Her maid was putting her clothes away in the press. When the maid had finished with the clothing, she poured a cup of wine for her mistress and went away, shutting the heavy door behind her. The Princess got up and bolted the door. Interesting, I thought, wondering what interruption she feared. Certainly none from Prince Charming. I had seen no indication he would be
