Sleeping Beauty fhk-5 Read online

  More likely he had found some young girl to get the hairs for him. She smiled a little as she shook her head. That man! A more charming rogue there never was. And she liked him well enough — just not as a consort. He'd be very amusing as a friend; he was witty and had a prankster's sense of humor, but was not afraid to turn the joke on himself. However, he was not what Eltaria needed. She sensed that he was cavalier about most things, and not really that good at thinking ahead. He would probably be a very popular King right up to the point that he did something disastrous. She had felt a little guilty accepting his gift, but then again, that came with being courted, and she had accepted a great many gifts by now, some just as valuable.

  The only one as practical, however, was Prince Siegfried's gift. And Siegfried's was priceless. Of all the things she had been given or offered, being able to defend herself meant the most to her.

  It was also a gift that no one else had even thought of. Siegfriedhad thought ahead; he had seen the blind spot her guards had when it came to the Princes, and he had given her a tool to get herself free. The second lesson had been just as interesting; he had shown her how to pick up something, get its balance to know how to throw it and get it aimed, more or less, at a target. "Even if you don't hit someone trying to hurt you, you'll make him duck. If he's ducking, he's not grabbing for you, he's not chasing you, and he's not firing a hand-crossbow at you."

  She was drilling herself in that now, to see everything as a potential weapon. It was going to take some getting used to, and she still had to remind herself to do so. It seemed for Siegfried it was automatic.

  And she was also enjoying the quiet moments of conversation that occurred between them. Though they were surrounded by others — and often ended up sweaty and bruised — there was a tenderness and a wistfulness to Siegfried's glances that made Rosa linger after the lessons were officially over. Siegfried's stories about his home and his travels were so very different from hers, and his wry comments were both amusing and insightful.

  "Between the two of us, Princess, you did Joffrey a favor by eliminating him. He has been looking for an excuse to do badly," he had said once.

  "How do you know?" Rosa had asked.

  He had looked her in the eye. "Because there isn't a man born who will admit he had to ask for directions unless he really doesn't want to be where he is supposed to be going. And Joffrey did. Three times."

  The ballroom seemed empty now, with only ten suitors left — though of course, all her ladies in waiting and courtiers were still there, and still mingling with the remaining Princes. Things were going back to normal, insofar as they could be normal with the trials still on and the anticipation for the end building.

  Three of the five "neighbors" were still in the running. She really did not want any of them to win. She really didn't want Leopold to win. That left six. Karl had been eliminated early on at the dragon trial. Not even his father was willing to protest that one. Not when he had tried to charge Sharpstone in defiance of the rules and had been picked up and dumped on his own doorstep by the dragon, in full possession of not only his own curse but several more. Siegfried; a semischolar named Henzel who had done surprisingly well even in the contests that required strength; Caspar, who was almost old enough to be her father; Klaus, who approached every thing in terms of strategy; Andret, who was here mostly to test himself; and Desmond.

  As if the thought had summoned him, Desmond appeared at her side, moving fluidly away from a knot of admirers and giving her a little bow as soon as he saw she had seen him. "Good evening, Desmond," she said, smiling. "And what is the speculation about the next contest?"

  "Most of us favor something spectacular — riding up a mountain of glass to fetch a golden apple, or something of the sort," he replied, with a charming lift of one corner of his mouth. "I was inclined to agree. With so much of the competition eliminated, it is a good time to — "

  " — give my people something to watch and marvel over?" she asked.

  " — I would have said, give them the sort of thing that tales are made of. This will be something that will be talked about for a hundred years, probably more." He raised an elegant eyebrow. "The tale will probably travel far, far beyond the six Kingdoms here, as your failed suitors return to their own lands, and probably exaggerate their own standings." His mouth quirked a little, in an ever-so-slightly-superior smile. "I would imagine every one of them will recount how he was in second place and only edged out by the winner at the last moment by some tactic either dubious or fiendishly clever."

  Rosa waited for him to add something to that, and was a little disappointed. She knew that Leopold would have concluded with a crooked smile and "I know I will," and they both would have laughed. And Siegfried would have said something like "Everyone is the hero of his own saga," with a self-deprecating shrug and a chuckle. If Desmond had a defect, it was that he didn't seem to find anything funny. Ironic, yes, or sarcastic. Not funny.

  Part of the reason that the ballroom seemed so empty was that there was enough floor space for large open areas to form. Now that there was room to move in here again, the majordomo had brought evening entertainment back — not actually holding formal balls, but rather, evening gatherings with a small group of musicians, so that those who wished to could dance, and those that wished to merely watch and gossip could do that without musicians or talkers drowning each other out. The group of musicians that had been playing at the "dancing end" of the long room quietly struck up the chords to signal dancing was going to begin.

  If there was one thing Rosa loved, it was dancing. And Desmond almost made up for his lack of humor with his ability to dance. He didn't ask her if she wanted to; he simply smiled and swung her into the first steps of the extremely lively dance called "Rupert Calantry."

  Normally, the first dances of the evening were extremely energetic, and tonight was no exception. Desmond had to relinquish her to another partner for four more dances; Siegfried didn't know these dances and Leopold was at the gaming tables, and the other three suitors weren't quick enough to beat out Desmond. And then, right in the middle of a lively gigue, she found herself swung out of the door to the garden and into the shadows of some ornamental trees where Desmond swung her around and into his embrace, looked down into her eyes for a moment, then kissed her.

  She closed her eyes and waited for...something to happen.

  And nothing did.

  It was pleasant. He was a little more forceful than she would have liked, but when she pulled back a little so did he. But...it was nothing more than pleasant; no spark, no excitement, just mild curiosity.

  And...somewhere inside, a little disappointment that none of that was there.

  Desmond reacted immediately to her lack of enthusiasm, smiling and releasing her. "Pardon, Princess, but you are so lovely and so adorable, I could not help myself." There was a flash of — some thing — in his eyes, but it passed before she could identify what it was.

  "There's nothing to forgive," she replied, and he took her arm like the perfect gentleman, as if nothing had happened except that they had come outside for a breath of air.

  Nothing, except that faint feeling of disappointment, and the growing feeling that there was something odd about Desmond.

  "That's it," Jimson said suddenly, breaking Lily out of her trance. "That's it. The last trial. The contest will be to find a way to protect Eltaria permanently." He chuckled cruelly. "Our three 'neighbors' won't have a chance, since their solutions — which will probably consist of 'marry me' — will be unacceptable. The others will all be working on theirs for some time, I expect."

  Lily dried her eyes and looked up. "Jimson, that is a very, very good idea. And it's the perfect trial. The young man that comes up with the best solution really will be the best one for Eltaria. And I don't mind at all keeping them here indefinitely...." She reached out her hand to the mirror and pressed it there. A moment later, Jimson's hand appeared on the other side of the glass. She smiled, a little wanly. "In f
act, just to be fair, I will announce that the solution cannot be 'marry me,' since that is not so much an answer as an obvious case of not thinking far enough into the future, and the solution must hold well past when Rosa and her consort are long dead. You are a genius."

  "Just desperate to stay your tears, my love," Jimson said tenderly. "Now, let us work together on the best way to phrase this announcement. We will want something that not even our worst enemies can take exception to. You can tell them all at afternoon Court tomorrow. Even the laziest will be awake by then."

  There was silence for a moment after the announcement, which seemed to take the Princess as much by surprise as everyone else, then the chatter began. "Well, that's certainly an interesting and appropriate challenge," said Leopold after a while. He sighed. "I think I will go find the gaming tables."

  Siegfried blinked. "Shouldn't we be thinking of — "

  Leopold interrupted him. "Siegfried, we should not be doing anything. It's obvious that this is the last trial. You go think of your way to answer the challenge, and I'll think of mine, and may the best man win."

  Siegfried was taken aback for a moment, but Leopold had not lost his slight smile. Whether or not he actually intended to compete at this, Siegfried couldn't tell. Maybe going to the gaming tables was his way of thinking about it. But he was right. Now it was every man for himself.

  He nodded, and clapped Leopold on the shoulder. "Don't forget your promise," he said. "When you win Rosamund, you help me find a woman who will break my Fate."

  Leopold laughed and punched Siegfried's bicep, swiftly reverting to his usual cheer. "Siegfried, some of the women I've met down in the city would setthemselves on fire for enough money, provided they didn't get hurt doing it. So don't worry. One way or another, we'll break your Fate for you."

  Feeling a little more cheerful, Siegfried headed back into the Palace for Rosa's next training session. This one should be...interesting.

  He met her at the door of one of the guest rooms, recently vacated by one of the candidates for her hand, which the servants would be cleaning thoroughly when he and she were done. All of the breakable ornaments and furniture had been removed and replaced with things that didn't matter, or were already broken.

  "Are you ready?" he asked. She nodded and went inside. He gave her a moment to orient herself, and then flung open the door.

  And had to duck immediately as a huge, and incredibly ugly, vase came flying at his head. From that point, it was sheer mayhem.

  This was the test of what he had told her to practice over the last few days; to enter a room with an eye to what might become a weapon, and prepare to use everything that came to her hand.

  That was exactly what she was doing. While he tried to catch her, anything that could be thrown at him, was, and with great accuracy. He wasn't going to trust this test to anyone else. Anyone else might get hurt; his reflexes were superb, possibly the best here, for he had certainly won the tournamentand the archery contest. He was having a hard time dodging what she threw, too. She was good.

  Her eyes sparkled with mischief and excitement as she aimed directly for his head with small objects he had only a glimpse of while he was dodging them. Her cheeks were very pink, and she grinned like a mad thing as she raced around the room, grabbing and throwing. It sounded as if there was a fight going on in this room, and he hoped there was no one nearby, other than her guards, to hear it, or a full-scale rescue party might come crashing through the door in spite of her guards.

  Meanwhile he chased her, and she ran. They made three circuits of the room, and each time she passed the door she touched it quickly, as the mark that she knew it was there and if this had not been a test, she would have been out of it. She did the same at the window. He had taught her how to jump out of one without getting hurt a few days ago.

  When she ran out of things to throw, she began finding things to turn over in his path, or knock over and kick at him. She picked up a shard of the vase to use as a knife. She picked up pieces of things still big enough to throw and threw them at him. Finally, when they had sped around the room too many times for him to count, she was getting out of breath, and he called a halt to the proceedings.

  She put a hand to her side, laughing. "Oh the poor servants are going to hate me!" she gasped, and collapsed on an ancient sofa in the middle of the room, the only thing still standing. He plopped down beside her.

  She was still laughing. "You looked so funny! It was like a scene out of a farce!"

  He chuckled. "Leopold took me to a farce, so at least I know what you mean. Like the scene where the angry girl throws plates at the clown?"

  "Exactly! Or her faithless lover." She patted his head. "Poor Siegfried! I hope you do not have too many lumps now!"

  "Not too many." He grinned sheepishly.

  Rosa's side hurt — and the corners of her mouth hurt from smiling so much. She knew this was supposed to be a serious exercise, but how could she be serious when Siegfried looked so funny, dodging all the horrible little ornamental things that people had bequeathed on the monarchs of Eltaria for the last hundred years or so?

  She didn't think he'd been hit — the man had the dodging ability of ten cats! — but she patted his head to make sure. That shaggy blond pelt was softer than it looked, much to her surprise. She didn't feel any lumps.

  But suddenly, she was seized with an impulse to — to —

  Her hand seemed to snake to the back of his head without any conscious thought on her part, to pull it forward. His eyes went startled.

  Then her lips met his.

  The same physical sensations raced through her that she had felt when she had awakened in the grove and Leopold had been kissing her. And other things. Except that this time...this time, the sensations were more intense. All of her skin felt a thousand times morealive than it ever had. And there were fires burning everywhere inside her. And —

  Oh no — no I must not do this yet —

  She let go of his head with a conscious effort of will and moved herself back a little on the sofa. He blinked owlishly at her, then licked his lips, and did the same.

  "If that is another weapon you threw at me, Princess," he said carefully, "it is most effective."

  She laughed weakly. "Not...exactly."

  Well, I wanted sparks. Some sign. That was certainly a sign. Desmond might not have this, whatever it is, but Siegfried certainly does.

  He blinked again, and moved back as far as he could before he ran into the arm of the sofa. "I think I had better sit here, or I might — we might — It would not be wise," he finished, his voice strained.

  She did the same, and folded her hands primly in her lap. Then she smiled, and felt her face flushing. He smiled back, then began to chuckle.

  "Well I did tell you to use everything you had as a weapon," he said, his voice a bit steadier. "And as a weapon, that is a useful one. When your enemy is disconcerted, you can use the same techniques I taught you for being seized."

  She was amazed that he was able to think clearly, because she was still a bit muddled. As if he had read her thoughts, he chuckled again.

  "Also it becomes easier with practice, much easier, to keep at least part of your mind clear even when the rest of it is reeling with confusion." He ran his hand through his hair — oh, she wanted to do that! — and grinned ruefully. "This is useful when one has had a mighty blow to the head. As I can testify. It is a very good thing that my skull is very, very thick."

  His bird, after landing on the windowsill and peering around cautiously, flew in and landed on her customary perch on his shoulder.

  "You two certainly made a mess," she trilled. "It looks as if a bear went on a rampage here! Well, Princess, did you pass the test?"

  "Oh, yes," Siegfried said first. "She certainly passed that test. Now all she need worry about is magic. I can do nothing to train her for that. Well, other than 'kill the magician before he can cast his power over you.'"

  "Which is difficult to do if he is ou
t of bowshot," the bird observed shrewdly. "Well then, Princess, even though your guards know what is going on and are listening for screams, the silence unnerves them almost as much, and I think you should go tell them it is all right before they burst in here with crossbows. Yes?"

  "Oh! Yes!" Rosa leapt to her feet, grateful to the bird for breaking the awkward moment. "Yes, I certainly should. Thank you!"

  Siegfried did not immediately get up, and when he did, she had already opened the door for herself.

  "Thank you, Prince Siegfried. I hope I never have to use your training, but I am sovery glad I have it! This was the best gift anyone has ever given me!"

  She had just enough time to see his face light up before she whisked out the door.

  The guards were all huddled outside the door, faces strained and anxious. They, too, lit up when she saw them, then looked shocked when they saw the wreck she had made of the room. Siegfried gave them a little salute, and grinned.