Chapter 11

“Marié!” The King exclaimed, running towards his sister. Lucien stood behind them, arms crossed behind his back like a perfect stature that watches all and doesn’t answer back. Which was false. Marié saw the judgement in his eyes of all the things that he hadn’t said to her the last time that they saw each other. She let herself be impressed by Charles for a moment.

For those brief seconds that he enveloped her, Charles was no King. He was her elder brother, who walked with her hand in hand over freshly cut grass, and at times played in the maze. Just as children. No titles. No crowns. No responsibilities. Charles pulled away and lifted her veil.

The King assessed Marié from the top of her head to her feet with a scowl. His hand reached across her temple and touched the small bruise. “I have seen it to it that they are all punished.”

Those words were like being doused with cold water. Marié pulled away from him. “How are they to be blamed for a decree that you issued?”

Charles sighed. “I do not wish to fight with you.”

Marié threw her hands up in the air. “How do you not see the error in your ways? How many others have been killed without a proper trial for daring to ask for what’s right?”

“Do not speak to me about what's right! You should not have been there!” Charles ran his hand through his hair as Lucien stepped forward. The two brothers looked at each other, words unsaid passing between them. The King sighed. “I am glad that you are much better to contend with the best of them.”

“As a matter of fact, I have a few things that I would like to speak to you about.” Marié turned towards the door where she left the unfamiliar man who trailed her every move and two servants that she didn’t ask for.

“I have conditions of my own but I will allow you one wish.” Marié grinned. Charles stepped back from his sister. “Think it over wisely, I will not compromise further.”

“Release everyone arrested.”

Charles lowered his eyes. He had expected as much from his sister. “I do keep my promises. However, for a royal pardon of that magnitude, you will need to give me something in return.”

Marié placed her hands on her waist. “I didn’t think so. What do you want?”

“With the exception of when you are at the monastery, you will have all your meals with the rest of the family.”

“This family does not have meals, you have political meetings and endless celebrations. I am afraid I am not the representation that you want nor will I enjoy the company. Your companions are a bore,” said Marié, challenging her brother.

Princess Marié did not know how to read off a script and those who challenged her, knew her opinion. Marié danced to her own tune and made it clear that she detested their lifestyle and company. Charles didn’t know when it happened, little by little she pulled away from society and perhaps she became exhausted from the tiresome interactions. Marié was a fire uncontained and despite their disagreements, he couldn’t stifle the things that bring out that passion no matter what his ministers said.

“Yet it is one of my conditions. Are you ready for the second?” Charles raised his brows. Marié narrowed her eyes.“And once a week, you will promenade with Prince Wilhelm.”

“I will agree to the first condition but not the second.”

He backed away from her, taking a seat on the golden chair. He crossed his arms with an amused smile. The room shifted around Marié. Dressed in a white gown, stood in the middle of the room, sunlight shone upon her. A swift but light breeze made her dress dance at her feet— she looked like a saint. What Marié had done to run away from the overspending of her family made the ministers afraid. She was loved. The King didn’t know how the rebels got their clutches in his sister but even he had to admit that they found his weakness. “The arrest was lawful. Vagrants are forbidden in my city.”

“You know very well that they were residents of Duke…”

“According to you and them.”

“Are you suggesting that I am lying?”

The corners of Charles’ mouth raised into a smile. He glanced at Lucien before looking at Marié. “I think you are capable of anything if you find it morally sound.”

“Call the Duke and I will ask him.”

“The Duke is not currently in the palace.”

“Of course, he isn’t.”

Charles’ raised his brows, putting his hands together. The way he looked at her... Lucien too. Marié had never thought that her brother would let the rebels go that easily. Never. If there was any conspiracy in the kingdom then the rebels were who Charles blamed. “What say you?”

“Why are you pushing this? Nothing will come out of it.”

“This incident has reminded me of something that I have long known, the church and the people would like to destroy this family from within.” King Charles waved a hand before his sister interrupted. “I know what you’ll say and you know where I stand. I may not be able to convince you but they killed our parents, I know it. That’s neither here nor there. I would like something to remind you that you’re one of us.”

“Using Prince Wilhelm is sending the wrong message.”

“You do realise that he is a Crown Prince and offending him is offending his crown. It’s simple politics, Marié. We all have to play by the rules at some point. You are betrothed to him and as such, you must spare him a few hours in your week.”

Marié scowled. “You do not want him near me, or there will be no doubt that I intend to offend him.”

“I’m sure he will find you charming. He has asked of you for weeks, the man will be finally pleased to meet you.”

Marié rolled her eyes. She lowered herself into a curtsy, and then turned towards the door. Charles let out a chuckle watching her leave. Prince Lucien ran after her, and when he caught up, he took her arm and linked it to his own. There was no one else who seemed to fit in like her brother did. It was as though the world adjusted itself to him. Marié didn’t know when it became difficult for her to interact with people but along the way, she had become the sum of the things that she had to do. Perhaps, that was for the best. There was far too much to do.

Despite wanting to push it aside and act like it didn’t happen, the King’s words replayed at the back of Marié’s mind. Her saving grace when the King proclaimed that the rebels killed their parents was that neither of her brothers expected her to remember what happened that day nor had they forced her to have answers. Lucien barely had a reaction to the words. Their parents’ death was a topic Marié and Charles danced around with opposing views, leaving Lucien ready to pick up the pieces.

She was a hypocrite. Marié was glad that she was hidden behind a veil or Lucien would see her guilt laid bare. She didn’t deserve his warm touch or love. Despite all Charles did, Marié couldn’t paint him as the villain. The rebels had killed their parents. Every time they spoke, the words sat at the tip of Marié’s tongue. They were not her parents alone and keeping what happened to them was unforgivable. Yet when she thought of the havoc that it would bring, her lips remained shut. Praying for the best for the majority at the expense of her brother’s peace did not make it right. In those moments, she may as well have killed her parents herself.

What kind of person left their father at the bottom of a river? What kind of person denied their siblings peace? Marié denied that she was different from the rebel leader but deep down, she was guilty of treason— the crime of refusing her King a resting place. Should there be a question of what Marié was capable of? After all she had done, a crime worse would be killing her brother and that she could never do. Yet as she stood before him, Marié hadn’t repeated what she learnt about the rebel’s movements and their presence in the palace.

“Did the King not agree to her demands?” Nanny asked, snapping Marié out of her thoughts.

“I would have thought that she got exactly what she wanted…”

Prince Lucien’s words trailed off as Marié focused on the women standing before them, blocking the path. It was common knowledge that trapped women with little hopes in life had a tendency of getting lost near the King’s palace. It was a mystery that was yet to be solved. The shrubs were cut in elaborate ways, it was understandable for one to be lost in the garden’s beauty. Those who lost their way were not so obvious about their intentions nor did they do it with the sun high in the sky. Confusingly, the women and their chaperones had their backs to the King’s quarters. If there was a spot in the palace which was not confused, it was the King’s residence.

As Marié got closer, she noticed that the women were watching something on their toes and biting their nails that they didn’t notice Prince Lucien approaching. He was no King but he didn’t run short of women offering themselves to him. There was only one person who could steal the spotlight from the King. A man due to be King. The woman who won his affections would be his Queen after all. In any equation, being Queen was better than the kept woman of any man.

“Ugh,”Mariè groaned, crossing her arms, filled with disgust as though she had stepped into a pile of human faeces.

Prince Lucien turned his head to his sister. “What is it, Princess?”

Nanny giggled, hand over her mouth. “Only one man instils such disdain from your sister.”

Lucien’s brows rose with both curiosity and confusion. Marié didn’t dare retort at those words despite the burning hatred bubbling up in her blood. Prince Wilhelm was a showman. Having heard of the escapades and the gatherings in front of his apartments, Marié never thought she would have to endure it.

She snorted.

What did Charles think I could have in common with such a man, Marié thought. One afternoon with her Bible open, she was convinced Wilhelm wouldn’t last a minute in her company. Marié tugged on the silk of her veil. Despite the material sweeping her ankles, Mariè suddenly didn’t feel so secure. The man had encountered her more times in less favourable situations that Marié wasn’t assured he wouldn’t recognise her if they came face to face.

Prince Lucien cleared his throat and the women parted, opening a path to a scene of three men charging towards Prince Wilhelm. The sheer violence and eagerness in which they attacked caught Marié’s breath and she stopped. There was a burly man with more weight than anyone should carry, a thin and tall one, and another she recognised — they were her brother’s advisors. Marié had never looked at the tiresome Prince up close. His reddish brown hair was loose, dancing in the air with his swift movements as he dodged the swords coming at him.

His swordmanship was like he was dancing — carefree and yet controlled. The outcome of the battle mattered very little to him and oddly, there was amusement in his eyes and the corners of his lips when caught off guard. Princes came with a standard operating procedure. His was a head stood above most in any room. Laughter followed any word out of his mouth where people thought he expected it. Agreement came after any proposition he made and most certainly, any fight he entered he won — skill or not. Yet, Prince Wilhelm was close to losing and that amused him.

A gasp left Marié’s lips at the sheer brutality of it. If any of the advisors attacked her brothers as they did Wilhelm, they would have been long dead. The political disaster that would fall upon their heads if Prince Wilhelm was injured was as though it only crossed Marié’s mind. Catching herself staring in wonder, she rolled her eyes and tightened her arms. Taking no chances, Marié moved behind Nanny and watched.

He had to know they wouldn’t hurt him. His laugh echoed over her skin. He was skilled with the sword and even more talented at playing to the crowd. Prince Wilhelm waited for the counter attack just long enough to appear cornered and for those surrounding him to cry out, pointing out his opponents as though he hadn't calculated those moves before they made them. Something about his behaviour reminded Marié of the afternoon that he appeared out of nowhere and acted as though he was in search of someone to spar with. That side of him, which left his true intentions and what he saw hidden, was unsettling. Somehow Marié thought he saw more than he let on.

Prince Wilhelm was outnumbered and outmatched. It was only a matter of time until he lost. Lord Casteels, the burly figure, despite his inability to move quickly, he attacked with strength and Vigour. Lord Beaumont and Gauthier made up for the speed that Lord Casteels lacked. Prince Wilhelm clashed with the burly man, being pushed into the crowd with each strike. He struck back but hardly managed to move the man. The other two advanced, it was impossible that Prince Wilhelm could keep up such a pace and his audience knew it.

It came as no surprise as his sword flew out of his hands and he fell backwards. He laid there, one arm behind his head, chuckling. The other men snorted, pleased with his defeat. They moved towards him, casual and ready to gloat. One second he was on the floor laughing at his own defeat and the next he had sprung to his feet.

Echoes of gasps vibrated like a most beautiful crescendo. Prince Wilhelm made a beeline towards them, interested in something behind Prince Lucien. In the next breath, Lucien had stepped out of his way in surprise. By the time Marié realised what had happened, her body had moved through the air like she was floating like a feather and then supported in front of a hard chest.

Gasps that were surprised seconds earlier were horrified as they looked between the Prince and then her. Her brother’s sword was lightly pressed against the silk of her scarf. The veil came up close against her face, moving up and down as she breathed. Wilhelm’s hand was warm against her shoulder and another close to her neck holding the sword. The guards and servants that were supposed to protect Marié were nowhere in sight. Marié filed the moment away to convince Charles to disperse with the guard and handmaidens.

“Now gentlemen,” Prince Wilhelm uttered with the utmost casualness. “I would advise that you place your swords on the floor or I might hurt this unfortunate maiden whose only fault was taking a path that led to a scoundrel.”

Marié stood up straight. He was joking and yet they knew something that he didn’t. He had a sword against their Princess which was a crime punishable by death. Yet touching him came with a price that none of them could afford. He knew that, Marié was certain. Prince Wilhelm was a gambling man who knew his opponents wouldn’t call his bluff.

“Prince Wilhelm…” Lucien said, his voice hard and cold.

Prince Wilhelm looked at Prince Lucien as though he was seeing him for the first time. “Prince Lucien, this is not my finest moment. Yet I must do what I must.”

Prince Lucien looked from the Prince to his sister. Marié was almost assured that he would say something to her defence but then her brother chuckled. “A man must do what he must.”

His hold on Marié was barely there and mostly to continue his show. Lord Casteels, Gauthier and Beaumont placed their swords on the floor. Prince Wilhelm let her go almost immediately and bowed to the crowd dramatically. He turned to her. “Forgive me, my lady, I fear my male pride would have suffered more than I could bear. I used you and for that, I am truly a scoundrel.”

Was the man genuine? She doubted that anything was ever real with him. Who was she to judge? She had her fair share of unspoken words and deceptive motives. Marié stared into the distance refusing to acknowledge his words with the many eyes on them or just in case he remembered her voice. That was a can of worms that Marié was unwilling to open with her brother nearby.

Wilhelm looked at Lucien when she didn’t answer. “Who is she? She reminds me of a little bird.”

Prince Lucien frowned. “A little bird?”

“Ah yes, a little bird from home. She has a tendency of jumping over walls and now that I think of it, she’s not above riding away without a thank you.”

He knew.

Lucien furrowed his brow. “Your Highness?”

Wilhelm chuckled. “I may have hit my head, I am not sure I am capable of making sense.” He bowed his head once more with a sincerity meant for the crowd. The message he had intended was delivered. “I will make amends some other time, my lady. Until then, I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me.”

Prince Wilhelm nodded his head towards Prince Lucien. For a short brief moment Wilhelm’s gaze went to Marié’s guard. He was big and strong, but nothing about him raised any doubts that he could kill. Yet he looked around anywhere but at them. If there was a moment to protect Marié, it had been then. Marié pushed thoughts of her new guard out of her mind as Wilhelm turned around and left, his guards flanking him. Somehow Marié was convinced that all had worked as he had planned. He wanted her to know that he knew what she got up to… why?

The crowd slowly turned away from Prince Wilhelm’s back with wonder and amusement. Prince Wilhelm was brazen. No man had ever dared cross Marié’s path. Even the Queen in her desire to cross the King, her abuse was limited to veiled curses. A hand brushed against Marié's shoulder, and she turned to her brother.

“Are you okay?” Prince Lucien asked.

“You were not concerned when he had a sword to my neck,” Marié retorted dryly. She pushed forward, ignoring the questioning eyes. Mariè was a stranger to her people just as she was to Wilhelm. It was the veil they recognized and not the person underneath. They lowered their heads as she passed.

Prince Lucien laughed, catching up to her. “I knew he wouldn’t hurt you.”

Marié snorted. “With the level of entitlement that princelings carry around, I am not convinced.”

Prince Lucien placed a hand on his chest. “You wound me, Princess.”

Nanny clasped Marié’s arm and squeezed, moving up close. “What a dashing young man!”

“Ah yes, and what a fine husband he will be if his bride lives past his desperation.”

Nanny rolled her eyes. “When did you become so boring? One would say that you used to be so daring! Do you remember when she wanted to be taught to fight and threatened the King with her life?”

They all remembered. The trauma of losing her parents left her wounded and afraid. Instead of cowering into a corner, Marié demanded being taught how to use a sword.

“It was my life that I threatened,” Marié said, remembering the impending threats that they faced. Prince Wilhelm was the least of her worries and it hardly mattered what he did with his time. “I have to see the Bishop. Be sure to tell our brother that his new guard is ineffective. What’s the use of him if he does nothing when Prince Wilhelm attacked?”

Prince Lucien chuckled. “Well, it would be rather odd to defend you from his Crowned Prince, wouldn’t it? I hardly doubt that Prince Wilhelm meant his bethrothed harm.”

Marié whipped around quickly. “What did you just say?”

Nanny and Prince Lucien pulled their lower lips into their mouths, wearing faces of thieves caught in the act.