Chapter 10

“Curtis, you amaze me,” I told him sincerely that afternoon. We had left the grounds and were sitting on the shore of a nearby beach, watching the waves rhythmically roll in. I wanted to soak in the free time we had before we were launched into back-to-back meetings the next day.

“Why is that?” Curtis asked.

“You make everyone feel so comfortable,” I exclaimed. “You remember everyone’s name and make them feel like the most important person in the world. Like they really matter.”

Curtis seemed puzzled. “Everyone does matter. The world needs everyone—farmers, butchers, soldiers, blacksmiths… Everyone has to do their part for a society to succeed.”

“I know that!” I said. How could I explain what I meant? “It is just that…being a prince, people expect you to be high and mighty. Distant, like your brother. But you treat commoners just the same as royalty.”

“We all put on our trousers one pant leg at a time!”

“Well, I really admire that about you. Not many people understand that. Just look at Hubert. He acts like he is much more important than anyone else, and no one likes him. But everyone likes you! Within five seconds of meeting you everyone likes you.” I sighed. “I wish I was more like you.”

“You shouldn’t. I’m nothing special.”

His statement surprised me. Curtis was always overflowing with energy and confidence. Everyone adored him. Who wouldn’t want to be like him?

“Why do you say that?”

Curtis dug in the sand with his toes. “Put it this way. I am expected to give one hundred percent all the time. There is no down time where I can just relax. From the time I wake up to when I go to bed, I am expected to give everything my fullest attention. It is exhausting. Don’t get me wrong, I really do like talking to everyone, and I honestly do care about all our kingdom’s subjects. But everyone I meet wants me to solve their problems. No one asks about me and how I am doing.” He stopped grinned at me. “Except you, of course,” he added before continuing, “but everywhere I go, whatever I do, people need something from me. Tutors are never satisfied with what I do; with the villagers, there are always more problems than need solved. The work is never done.”

It was the first time I had ever heard Curtis express any dissatisfaction with his role. I reached over and squeezed his hand. “Well, any time you need someone to relax with, I will be here for you.”

Curtis squeezed my hand back. “I know you will. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

I blushed scarlet. “So, how are you doing?” I asked.

Curtis chuckled. “Just fine, thanks for asking.”

We stayed there for a long time, just watching the waves and listening to the seagulls. It was so peaceful. So beautiful. We watched as the sun slowly sank beyond the ocean and darkness settled in.

“They will probably be looking for us soon.” Curtis said.

“We can relax for a few more minutes.” I told him. “Besides, the stars haven’t come out yet. And you need to unwind sometimes, remember?”

“If you insist.”

We watched stars slowly come out, one by one. It was amazing to me that in this country, even the nights were warm. The sea breeze smelled salty, and I heard the palm fronds rustling behind us.

“Truly?”

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Do you plan on staying?”

“Where? Here on the beach? In Avivia?”

“At the castle. In Islandria. As a linguist.”

“Of course! Why would I do anything else?”

Curtis shrugged. “Just wondering. People come and go all the time.”

“Father is the Chancellor of the Exchequer. That isn’t a job you just throw away. We will probably be there my whole life.” I bumped my shoulder against his. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“Good. I like having you around.”

“Is that right?”

“Yep. I couldn’t make it without you.”

On the final day of our trip, Curtis was called to watch the Avivian troops drill, and I was sitting in on a lengthy and tedious meeting about the evolution of cultural customs and their effects on the wellbeing of society. I was supposed to be translating for the Avivian commoner who sat on the Council to represent the villagers, but he wasn’t a talkative fellow and seemed more inclined to listen. The bulk of the meeting was about preserving historical artifacts and traditions.

I was nearly nodding off under the bright sun pouring in from the window when I was suddenly jolted to full attention by the conversation.

“What do you mean, re-negotiate your betrothal?” a nasal voice wheezed.

“Just what I said,” Aria’s voice was crisp.

She continued. “The Crown Prince of Islandria currently has no interest in me nor I in him. I wish to postpone our wedding for a minimum of an additional three years. There is no need to rush into a marriage until we can agree on a mutually beneficial merger for our countries, particularly when our governments are run so differently. It is a political disaster waiting to happen.”

“Perhaps Your Highness would prefer an engagement to the other prince?” the nasal voice asked. I whipped my head around to look at the speaker. He was an ancient man with powder white hair and skin that looked as though his wrinkles had wrinkles. I held my breath as I waited for Aria’s answer.

“It is an option, I suppose,” Aria mused, and drummed her fingers idly on the table. Her attention flicked over to me. “Lady Truly, would you deliver a message to Prince Curtis? Tell him to meet me in the entrance hall tonight at sunset. I will see if he is a viable possibility.”

A viable possibility? She was talking about Curtis like he was a possession to be examined before purchasing. She didn’t know him at all. I left the meeting in a daze. I was stunned. How could I tell Curtis that Aria wanted to see if he was suitable husband material for her? I wandered around the halls, half looking for Curtis and half hoping I wouldn’t find him, because I was dreading the conversation we would have.

I came upon him telling one of his favorite jokes, the one about a bard who had one leg and three thumbs, to a group of guards. I hovered around the corner, not wanting to interrupt. When he finally finished telling the joke and laughing, I caught up to him.

“Curtis?”

He turned. “Truly! What—what is wrong? You look upset.”

I couldn’t meet his eye, and swallowed as a lump formed in my throat. Once all the guards were out of earshot, I muttered, “I am just delivering a message. From…Aria.” Suddenly, I didn’t want to use any of Aria’s titles as I should have when talking about her.

“What is it?”

The lump in my throat grew so speech became nearly impossible. I loathed each syllable that formed on my tongue. “She wants you to meet her tonight at sunset. In the entrance hall.”

“Did she say why?”

“She is thinking about… about changing her betrothal… to you.”

Curtis didn’t say anything. Why wasn’t he reacting? The hallway no longer felt warm at all. I felt cold goosebumps erupt all over my skin. “I was just in a meeting with the Avivian Council, and she suggested moving her wedding back a few years. Someone suggested you as a substitute to Hubert instead.”

Curtis remained silent.

I couldn’t think of anything else to say. Why? Why was it that someone else was making a bid for Curtis just a week after I had confessed my feelings for him? And I couldn’t compete with the beautiful crown princess of an exotic, tropical land. I looked up at Curtis. He didn’t seem disturbed by the news at all, merely contemplative.

“Well, I guess I will entertaining Her Highness this evening, then,” Curtis said finally, seeming completely unconcerned. “I best get ready.” He walked off, leaving me alone and confused in the hallway which suddenly felt dark and chilly.

I couldn’t understand it. I thought my friendship with Curtis was evolving into something more, but now, I felt cast off and betrayed. Was I simply an item to be traded in when a newer, fancier model became available?

I lingered in the far end of the entrance hall that evening, pretending to be engrossed in a document comparing wheat prices. But I kept watching closely for Curtis and Aria to meet up. I saw Aria appear first, then Curtis came out of the dining hall shortly after. He bowed and they exited through the golden front doors.

I couldn’t stand it! I hadn’t considered before today that other girls would be interested in Curtis. I had never considered that Curtis could return their feelings and enter a relationship that would take him away from me. I would lose my best friend. Why had I never thought of that before? He was handsome, he was funny, and he was a prince. Of course other girls would be interested in him. What was not to like? How had I been so stupid as to think that he and I would stay best friends forever, without anything or anyone else to get in the way?

I tried to inconspicuously peer out of the windows after them. It was difficult to track them in the dusk. I could barely make them out, shadowy figures walking along the same path that Aria had walked with me all those months ago.

Jealousy pulsed through my body. I thought Curtis cared about me. That just showed how shallow boys were. Ugh! I wished Comfort was here. I would be able to tell her everything and she would readily agree with me, be angry at Curtis for being so flighty. See if I cared! Who needed boys anyway?

I stomped up to my quarters. I paced back and forth, driving myself mad by imagining what Curtis and Aria would be doing right now. I thought briefly of going to wait for Curtis in the entrance hall, but discarded the idea almost immediately. I wouldn’t be the girl who was going to chase after someone. If Curtis wanted me, he would have to prove it.

Then I wilted. Why would any boy choose me? Aria had much more to offer Curtis than I did. She was rich, beautiful, elegant, refined… She would be the ruler of a scenic and successful country. I sat down heavily on the bed.

A soft knock on my door interrupted my thoughts.

“Come in,” I called, hoping against hope that it would be Curtis. It wasn’t.

Father poked his head in. “I didn’t see you at dinner, sweetheart. I brought you a plate.”

He brought over a platter with food and placed it on the bedside table. He looked closely at me. “Are you alright?”

“I think so,” I said, suddenly feeling like I wanted to cry.

“Want to talk about it?” he asked, sitting down next to me.

I shook my head.

Father studied me for a moment, then leaned back. “Have I ever told you the story of how I met your mother?”

Of course he had. I knew the story well; it was one of my favorites. But I always loved hearing it each time he told it. “Tell me.”

“Way back in the day, before I was old and fat, I made a bet with my friend who was, at the time, equally as young and stupid as I was. I bet that I would be able to sneak into a nearby finishing school and steal a cake before anyone caught me. You see, his sister attended the school and had told him that there was a cake decorating contest that day. Now, boys are interested in three things: food, competing in sports, and girls. And when a young man is dared by his best friend to any absurd challenge, the man code states that he must agree. So I found an open window and saw tables all laid with cakes inside. I ducked back down and waited until the room was empty.

“Once I knew there wasn’t anyone inside that room, I got a running start and tried to jump through the open window. But I misjudged the window’s height, and my foot caught on the frame, and instead of jumping through the window, I fell through the window, did a full front flip, and landed flat on my back on one of the tables holding cakes. It broke clean in half, and several cakes fell onto me. The noise I made would have woken the dead. The wind was completely knocked out of me, and I couldn’t move a muscle.

“So I just lay there, gasping for air and covered from head to toe in cake and frosting, and one of the instructors came in. Now, I don’t know why this woman was teaching at a finishing school. Everyone expects finishing school graduates to be dainty and ladylike, but this woman must have been there as a bodyguard, because she was immense! She came in and saw me lying there, yanked me up by my ear, and marched me down to the headmistress.

“All the girls heard the commotion, and watched as I was being dragged down the hallway, trailing cake crumbs all the way. We came to the headmistress’ office, and the bodyguard woman slammed me down into a chair to wait for her. But, all of that was worth it, because after the headmistress was done interrogating me, the most beautiful girl I had ever seen in my life came in. The headmistress said that this was the girl who had baked and frosted all those cakes I had smashed, and it was up to me to make things right with her.”

Usually, it was at this point in the story that Mother would chime in with ‘And you girls would not believe how silly your Father looked, sitting there with frosting plastered in his hair and cake ground into his shirt, looking as though he had been clubbed over the head. His eyes were as big as saucers!’

“And then I started stuttering and spluttering and making a complete fool of myself, trying to explain to this beautiful girl what had become of her cakes. The best I could come up with was telling her I would take her to the market and replace all of her ingredients and help her recreate her masterpieces.

“So the next day, after I had washed all the frosting from my hair, I picked a bouquet of flowers and took them to your Mother. I apologized profusely about my behavior and took her on a long stroll through the marketplace and let her pick out all the ingredients she wanted. Then the rest is history! She fell madly in love with her cake thief, and we lived happily ever after.”

I always loved hearing that story. It was so easy to imagine a young Father, tumbling through an open window, being dragged off to the headmistress’ office by his ear, and Mother coming in to see a young man covered in her cake and stammering an apology.

The story had made me forget my anger. “You should have been a bard,” I told Father. “I’m sure you could put that story to song.”

Father pretended to strum an imaginary lyre and sang in a dreadfully out-of-tune voice,

“There once was a lovely cake,

So difficult to frost and make,

A lovely lass left her class,

Then heard a great big crash!”

“I take it back! I take it back!” I cried, covering my ears. “Never sing in public or you will be run out of town!”

Father laughed. “Feeling better?”

I smiled and hugged him. Father always knew what I needed. I never had to explain myself to him. I heard another knock on the door. “Come in!” I called for a second time.

This time, it was Curtis. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were busy,” he began, and was about to leave, but Father forestalled him.

“I was just on my way out,” Father said and winked at me as he passed. “In any case, I believe my daughter was planning to run me out soon to protect her hearing. Good night, dear, I love you! And happy early birthday, Your Highness.”

Curtis thanked him and bowed as Father passed, then flicked his eyes over at where I sat.

“So, how did it go?” I asked, much more formally than I ordinarily would have been.

“Well, let’s see. She thinks Hubert is a stuffy old bore, and I couldn’t disagree there. And we compared notes on army drills. Then she asked if I was in a committed relationship.”

He paused. Stupid storytellers with their dramatic effects. “What did you say?” I asked, trying to sound as though I didn’t care.

“I said I was.”

My head shot up. “Really?”

“Well I did consider just picking my nose and passing gas more often than Pooter but decided that wouldn’t do well to uphold the dignity of our country. I figured honesty was the best policy for foreign diplomacy.”

I couldn’t suppress my grin. “Are you serious?”

“About the picking my nose and passing gas?”

“Not that! I meant… being in a relationship.”

“If you agree.”

I felt like my beaming was going to split my face in two. “Yes.”

All that jealousy for nothing. He chose me…me! Just a girl with no title over the gorgeous leader of a vast country. I felt like I could fly.