Chapter 4

The following day was nothing like our relaxed arrival. From dawn until dusk, we were kept busy with meetings and negotiations. I barely had time to shovel down breakfast before I was swept along to a lengthy conference regarding trade prices of grain between our countries. The negotiations were drawn out and moved forward at infinitesimally small increments. Sweat beaded my forehead as I continued to sit rigidly straight and speak as fluently as I could, translating our delegate’s offer into Avivian. The sun, which felt so warm and balmy the day before, now beat down incessantly, burning my exposed arms and face as I sat directly under an open window.

After hours, the trade delegation finished their negotiations. I wished I could have told them that they would have saved themselves an immense amount of trouble and time if they had both put their offers on the table then met in the middle first off, instead of moving up or down in price a fraction at a time, only to meet in the middle at the end. But it wasn’t my place.

I hoped for an afternoon break so I could eat and maybe take a walk to stretch my legs, but my hopes were squashed when a serving girl deposited a plate of food in front of me, and it was announced that we had ten minutes to eat before the next meeting would begin. I wolfed down my meal, not even noticing what I was eating, before the next meeting began.

It continued all day, with me sitting perfectly still and translating the best I could for whichever delegate I was assigned. I was so intent on focusing every fiber of my being into understanding and translating the ongoing dialogue that by the end of the day, I was utterly exhausted. Even though I had done nothing physical, my body was more fatigued than I could ever remember feeling before.

The following days were the same. Constant meetings, negotiations, and conferences. But once I began feeling a little more confident and at ease, I started paying attention to the other people in the room with me and picking up on little mannerisms that they had. It helped to pass the time during meetings when my assigned delegate wasn’t a primary speaker.

There was a man with an abnormally large nose who would dig into his ear with his quill when he was thinking. I made a mental note to inspect any parchment he wrote on for residual earwax. There was a plump, dark-skinned Avivian woman with elaborately set hair, braided and twisted into an elegant knot shaped like a blooming rose. She always paid the utmost attention to anyone speaking and had eyes that never blinked and seemed to stare straight into the speaker’s soul.

Another interesting person to watch was a mousey looking boy about Curtis’ age, with buck teeth and a nervous, twitchy manner about him. I had no idea how such a young man was a courtier, but then again, here I was as well.

It wasn’t until the last evening of our journey that I spoke to Princess Aria. Father and I were sitting in the dining area after supper, and listening to the bard reenact a comical story about a fisherman who was trying to capture a whale. A touch on my shoulder made me turn, and Aria stood there, regal as ever. “I wish you to accompany me on a walk,” she said to me, and immediately strode off. I rose to hurry after her.

“Tell me how it ends,” I whispered to Father as I nodded toward the bard, then scurried after Aria.

Aria and I walked out of the castle, down the front steps, and out into the courtyard. Neither of us spoke at first. I was unsure of what to say. I knew the proper term to address her would be Crown Princess Aria but had no idea what to say after that. She was the one who had asked me to accompany her, so I felt it only fair to let her start the conversation.

“You live with the royal family in Islandria?” Aria queried finally. She surprised me by speaking in Islandrian.

“Yes, Your Highness,” I replied.

We continued to walk. The silence was awkward. Was the question supposed to be a conversation starter? If so, it wasn’t working. Should I begin to recount childhood memories to her? Surely not; I couldn’t imagine the future queen of Avivia would be interested in tales of Curtis and I sneaking honey buns out of the castle kitchens.

“Have you visited Islandria?” I asked, hoping she would pick up the cue to talk. “I beg your forgiveness, but I do not recall having seen you in our homeland before, Crown Princess Aria.”

Aria continued to glide forward as though she had wheels. “No, my duties require me to stay here. My older brother tends to foreign affairs.”

Her Islandrian was perfect. I supposed she would be required to be fluent in multiple languages, just as our royalty was required to be. Again, we lapsed into silence.

“Are you familiar with Crown Prince Hubert and Prince Curtis?” Aria asked.

Finally, an easy topic! “Yes, Your Highness, I know them both very well.”

“I have only met Crown Prince Hubert twice,” Aria said mildly. “Describe him for me.” I firmly told myself to not say anything negative about Hubert. I was an official representative of the crown. I had to be diplomatic. I couldn’t say anything about him being an overbearing, pompous prat.

“He is very knowledgeable. Very intelligent,” I said. “He is well-versed in many languages, highly involved in military drilling, and takes pride in all his duties. He always is sure to do any task properly. He is very dignified, and…and punctual,” I finished lamely.

Aria paused in her walking and looked shrewdly at me. “So he is a bore,” she said slyly.

Before I could stop myself, I snorted in laughter. I stifled it quickly. I mustn’t speak ill of Hubert; I was here on behalf of him and the royal family.

“No, no, not a bore,” I tried to amend. “He just takes his duties very seriously.”

“I can tell he is serious,” Aria mused. “He didn’t so much as crack a smile when our bard performed.”

“He isn’t one for jesting.” I admitted. “But Curtis is.”

“I have not met Prince Curtis,” Aria contemplated. “Is he very different from his brother?”

“Very!” I said enthusiastically. “He is very funny, and loves to be with people. He doesn’t really care about being proper, but since he isn’t crown prince, no one really minds. Our commoners absolutely adore him.”

“He sounds amusing,” said Aria politely, but didn’t seem interested in pursuing the subject further. She had lapsed into silent thought. Was I talking too much? Too little? Was I too casual in how I had described the princes? I began to over-analyze everything I had said so far.

We had walked halfway around the castle. I was glad that I had on my wide, flat shoes. Not fashionable, but so very functional. Perfect for walking, and I was able to hide them under my excessive number of petticoats and skirts. Comfort and I had both been cursed with Father’s overly large feet. Comfort always made fun of my big flat shoes, and I always teased her right back for stuffing her giant feet into shoes too small and high-heeled to try and fit in with fashion trends.

“You are aware that Prince Hubert and I are betrothed?” Aria asked, jolting me out of my thoughts about feet.

“No, Your Highness,” I said, caught off-guard.

Aria nodded. “Since birth.”

I knew that arranged marriages were common for royalty, but had never stopped to consider that possibility happening in our kingdom. I hadn’t known that about Hubert, and I had known him my entire life. Was Curtis betrothed? What should I say to Aria? Tell her congratulations for an event she couldn’t possibly remember and had been assigned to her since her birth? Wish her good luck? I couldn’t discern if she was happy about the fact or not.

“Hubert will be a loyal husband, I am sure.” I told her, trying to sound positive.

“Hmmm.” Aria sighed. “I would like to hear more about him.” She waited expectantly.

What should I say? Recount the innumerable times Curtis and I had made him the butt of our jokes? Tell about the many servants and staff Hubert had dismissed? I settled on the safest answer.

“He loves competing in the tournaments,” I said. “He excels at horseback riding, wrestling, jousting, swordplay, and archery. We have tournaments often. Perhaps you could attend one.”

“Perhaps,” Aria mused noncommittally, then asked, “Is he musical?”

I thought of the few times Hubert had been forced to pick up and attempt to play musical instruments by his tutors. They were poor attempts at best. Nor could I say that Hubert enjoyed attending musical performances; hadn’t he dismissed our own bard?

“No, Your Highness. He has many talents, but unfortunately, musical ability is not one of them.”

“Is the other prince musical? Curtis?”

I felt a sharp pang of protectiveness. “No, he is not musical either,” I said, a little too quickly.

Aria smiled, her brilliantly white teeth standing out just as they did when I first met her. “I appreciate your honesty, Lady Truly. Until you, no one has given me candid answers about my husband-to-be.”

I felt a little guilty for twisting the truth. We had finally circled the entire castle. I dropped my deepest curtsy. “Thank you for allowing me to accompany you on a walk, Your Highness.”

Aria inclined her head and departed.