Originally, I wasn't going to do a sequel. It just never occurred to me. But 'Princess in Shinning Armor' got a lot of good attention, plus requests for a continuation. The story line was conducive to it, so I ran with it. :P
This is what happen when you review! Convey your wishes and I will endeavor to fulfill them! :)
Enjoy!
Madeline stood on the plaza's edge, watching as her few trunks were loaded onto the wagon. Alfred stood next to her, jaw tight and eyes grim. He'd been fuming for these last few weeks, easily more upset about this than she was. Madeline herself was more nervous than angry at this point. Alice had come back to their father's fief with them, ignoring her own father's protests. The princess was the only reason Madeline wasn't worse off than she was now. Alice had provided insight on everything from fashions to etiquette, to socializing to who was who. None of which Madeline had ever wanted to know, but if it would help her survive and thrive she'd take up sword juggling.
It could have been worse, she was sure of that much. Madeline knew for a fact that out of all the people who fell into her father's criteria of 'eligible', Gilbert was thus far the most appealing. He wasn't old enough to be her grandfather, for one. She had confirmed that he was only two years older than her, not that he acted like it. He was far from old fashioned, a lot like Alfred in that regard, not that her brother would admit it. Honestly, the man had decided he wanted to marry her after she'd masqueraded as a knight for pities sake. He'd laughed in delight when she'd drawn his own sword on him.
Before she'd left to return home and prepare to join him in Saxon, Gilbert had given her a small, silk wrapped package. In it were two, very surprising items. One didn't normally receive a belt as a gift of affection, even one that was broad and polished with elegant designs pressed into the leather. It made a bit more sense once he showed her the small, sharp dagger hidden in the buckle, though. The other item she had tried to refuse outright.
"Isn't it illegal for anyone but you to have this?" she'd hissed, looking around anxiously as she tried to push the second gift back into his hands. Honestly, what was he thinking?! The last time a thief had been caught with a royal signet ring he'd been publicly executed! They had displayed his corpse until the bones were falling apart! It made no sense to Madeline, it was just a stupid ring, but most nobles took it very seriously.
Gilbert had simply laughed, pushing it back into her grip. "Nein, Birdie. The law is different in Saxon. It is tradition for a royal to give their signet ring to whoever they've decided is awesome enough to marry. You can ask Vater or Alice if you want. Luddy gave Feliciana his ring before he married her. You can give it back after we're married."
Madeline had stared at the ring, a shiny gold thing with the crest of the Belishmet royal family on its flat top. It was too big for her, something Gilbert had taken into account. The royal ring was strung on a slender silver chain, so she could wear it around her neck rather than even bother with trying to keep it on any of her fingers.
She'd taken to fiddling with the ring, when it wasn't tucked under her clothes. Madeline wasn't a flashy person by nature, but women didn't wear rings around their necks for no reason. She hadn't exactly gone out of her way to tell Alfred about it, but when he did find out he'd only scowled, muttering something about sister-stealing albinos.
Fingering the now warm metal, she said quietly, "Saxon is right on the border, and they're close allies with us." It wasn't the first time she told him, but it didn't hurt to provide the occasional reminder. "He promised I could come back at least once a year. It might be more, but it takes two weeks and if I'm part of the royal family...
"I just figured it'd be me leaving you, not the other way around. It seemed like it'd be easier," said Alfred grimly.
"We can't be attached at the hip forever, Al. It's not the first time we've gone our separate ways, either. I'm not going to some distant land, I'm going to the neighboring kingdom who's been friendly with our own for three centuries. Even if we didn't have centuries of peace under our belt, the fact I'm going to marry one of their prince's ensures they'll be very reluctant to go to war with each other. They knew this, it's why they came here in the first place."
"I know all that," muttered Alfred. The last time they'd been separated for an extended period of time was when he'd gone to the Capital to train to be a knight. Even then, Madeline had been allowed to visit him often enough. He'd barely been back a full year before they'd gone to the tournament. Though if she understood correctly, his anger was as much about a noble he'd never met deciding to marry his sister.
That, and the fact their father had stubbornly refused to let Alfred escort Madeline to the border, where an armed convoy would take charge of her. As the fiancé to the heir to the throne, she had jumped in status from average-ranking foreign noble to top priority in the eyes of the Saxon people. Alfred might have been able to argue their father around, or just gone anyway, but he still wasn't fully healed from his fall a month ago. He might be able to walk, but his arm was still in a sling.
Alice, who'd been recalled to the palace a few days ago, had given him a stern talking to. Madeline hadn't been able to make much out besides raised voices, even though there were several stone walls to separate them, but whatever the princess had said had worked. Alfred was fuming and grumbling, but at least he was finally resigned. Madeline was just hoping she could get out before he started to change his mind.
She tucked the ring back under her tunic, then turned to face Alfred. Their father had given what was as close to a goodbye as she was going to get the night before. The sun was barely passed the horizon, and since she had yet to see him the man was probably still abed.
"I'll write you once I'm there," she said, voice even quieter than usual.
"You'd better," he told her firmly.
The next thing Madeline knew, her feet were off the ground and the air was squeezed from her lungs. She endured the hug, which was very strong despite being reduced to one arm, waiting until she was returned to the ground. Once she could breathe again, Madeline put a hand on his good arm, lightly kissing his cheek.
Deciding not to give him anymore time to change his mind, Madeline strode briskly down the wide steps. A pale chestnut mare stood patiently behind the cart, waiting. Madeline gave Maple a quick pat before mounting up, the cart driver/guard climbing up onto his perch. As he clucked to the Clydesdale hitched to the cart, she urged Maple forward.
Alfred waved to her enthusiastically as they rode across the courtyard. Madeline looked back as they rode across the draw bridge, right before they passed out of sight. She returned the wave just before she lost sight of him, throat a little tight. He was right, this was different. She wasn't watching someone ride away, knowing she'd be able to visit them in a few months. For some reason, this was harder.
Madeline tried not to look back until she was sure the castle was out of sight. By the time she finally gave in, the tallest tower was disappearing behind the tree line. Taking a deep breath, she faced forward again, mouth set in a grim line. She urged Maple foreword until they were alongside the driver, glancing ahead and behind to make sure the road was clear.
"Can we stop for a moment?" she asked.
The man nodded, guiding the Clydesdale to the side of the road before bringing them to a standstill. Madeline urged Maple to the tree line and dismounted, taking down a wrapped bundle from behind her saddle. She ducked behind a dense bush, and sat down to wrestle off her ridding boots.
When she emerged a few minutes later, Madeline had traded a dress and stockings for breeches and a tunic, both sturdy and made for travel. She would have started off in the men's gear, as it was more comfortable and more practical, but it was one of the many things Lord Jones strongly disapproved of. It wouldn't be so bad, since he was rarely around to complain directly, but a lot of servants reported to him. The only reason Alfred had been able to teach her how to fight was because none of them bothered to go out to the training field unless they absolutely had to. It was one thing Madeline was looking forward to, no longer needing to worry about her father's approval. Once married, she would technically answer to her husband, and Gilbert could care less if she preferred breeches to skirts. She'd asked.
"Thank you," she said, mounting up again.
The guard nodded wordlessly, and clucked to the Clydesdale, getting them moving again.
BREAK/BREAK\BREAK
The first few days went smoothly enough. They made good progress, and the rain held off until the third day. Even then the sun was shining again by midday. It was a good week from their fief to the Saxon boarder, another to the royal palace. Honestly Madeline was more worried about what would happen after she changed hands from a single, familiar guard to a squad of unfamiliar ones who may or may not speak English.
The language barrier was one of the things that worried her the most, honestly. Madeline had been taught French, because her father was convinced it was the one most suitable for a lady to learn. This made no sense to Madeline, but she liked the language so she hadn't complained. That said, the official language of Saxon was German. Madeline had been trying to learn, with minimal success. She knew immersion was the best learning method, at least that was what she was banking on. English was also a common tongue in Saxon, and many people spoke it, but a lot of business was done in German, official documents were written in it. What sort of royal didn't understand the language of their own people?
Madeline had packed several books on the subject, reading and studying the language as she rode. The guard wasn't the chatty type, and neither was she, so they were content with this arrangement. It was nice, while it lasted. On the fourth day, their peace was cut abruptly short.
Madeline was riding behind the cart, as was her habit, nose in one of her German texts. Maple was plodding along behind it, reins resting around the saddle horn rather than in Madeline's hands. The mare was far from a temperamental creature, and in Madeline's humble opinion, quiet intelligent. She was free to focus all her attention on her work, and Maple was able to do as she pleased so long as she kept pace.
The girl was muttering under her breath, trying to get the pronunciation right on a particularly long word, when Maple balked. Madeline looked up, frowning, fumbling for the reins. Before she could ask, she noticed that the cart had stopped.
Slowly, she returned her book to her saddle bags, and urged Maple around the cart, peering ahead. As she did, the guard called, "State your business!"
She found this odd, as they'd passed plenty of travelers without incident. But then she noticed the lone, mounted figure in the middle of the road, dead ahead. They'd just rounded a curve in the road, which explained why they were only thirty feet away when the guard had noticed him.
Madeline felt her eyes narrow, studying the mounted figure. They were astride a large white horse, one that could easily match a battle horse in size. They had travel packs strapped to their saddle, a sword hung from their saddle horn. They were clad in simple enough clothes, sturdy and meant to survive Mother Nature's worst, but they also wore a long cloak with the deep cowl drawn up around their face.
She wanted to say there was something familiar about this person, but she couldn't put her finger on it….
"My business is being awesome! Let me join you and I will prove it," the stranger declared.
Madeline's mouth fell open in surprise. "Gilbert?" she blurted, before she could think better of it.
Sure enough, the prince's signature laugh came from the hood's cowl, and he reached up to push it back. Hooking a finger under the scarf wrapped around the lower part of his face, he dragged it down, revealing a wide grin.
Madeline heard the guard fumble in his seat, then say, "Your majesty, forgive me. I didn't know."
Gilbert laughed again. "Ja, that was the idea. I might be less well known here, but there aren't that many awesome albinos around."
Madeline cleared her throat. "Don't take this the wrong way, but what are you doing here? I thought you were due to return to Saxon immediately after the tournament." Originally they'd have gone back to the Capital with Alice and her father, but the only reason they'd been staying at that point was so Gilbert would choose someone before his father chose for him. That was over a month ago, as one month had been the timeframe she'd been allowed to get her affairs in order before riding for Saxon herself.
"I was," said Gilbert, rummaging through his pockets with one hand as he urged his mount forward. "But then the Awesome me got this."
Once alongside Madeline, he offered her a small scrap of paper, one that looked to be the kind secured to the leg of a carrier pigeon. She took it, smoothing out the paper and frowning at the scrawl. "Father won't allow me to escort her. Do what I can't." The other side read "I still don't like you, but she does. Fail and die."
Madeline felt heat creeping up her face. She'd know Alfred's scrawl anywhere, but she had no idea he'd done something like this. She didn't even know how he'd gotten hold of a pigeon that could fly to Saxon. It hit her then that Alice would at least know who might have such a bird, and relaxed a little. Was this why Alfred had done little more than seethe all these weeks. Because he knew Gilbert would be doing this? Gilbert had only ducked her brother for the first little while, but had willingly faced him once Madeline was more comfortable with the idea of having the albino as a husband. Alfred might not want to like him, but despite the threats of a slow and painful death should his sister get hurt in any way, Madeline got the impression he didn't outright hate Gilbert.
"Normally threats on the Awesome me's life count as treason, but for him I make an acceptation," Gilbert said, grinning. "Your father is really not awesome, Birdie."
Madeline grimaced, handing back the note. "I'm sorry about that."
Gilbert shook his head. "Nein, I'm glad he sent for the Awesome me. Elizabeta is going to meet us at the border post. The Awesome me will take you there, and if Vater asks, I was with her the whole time."
Cracking a smile at the mention of his pan-wielding cousin, Madeline urged Maple forward again. The guard took the cue, clucking to the Clydesdale. As they got moving again she asked, "How is she, by the way?"
Gilbert's hand drifted to the back of his head, apparently without him noticing. "She can't wait to meet you, Birdie."
"She's not going to hit me with a frying pan, is she?" Madeline asked wearily.
The prince laughed. "Nein, she only hits men and her soldiers if she thinks they deserve it."
"Do they?"
"Sometimes. But the attacks on the Awesome me are always unreasonable. She doesn't always recognize my awesomeness."
Madeline shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips despite herself. There was more height difference between them than usual, seeing as upon closer inspection he was riding Heinz. The massive white stallion was a battle horse by breed, big and sturdy and reliable. She knew that typically knights didn't use their battle horses for general trips and travel, but then Saxon didn't have knights, just warriors. They had different ways of doing things, and she had yet to fully figure them out. She did, however, know that they took great pride in their mounts.
"Why do you do that?" she asked as Gilbert started wrapping his face in the scarf again. It didn't seem in character for the prideful albino to hide himself. Normally he was something of a showboat.
"The Awesome me is traveling incognito this side of the border," he answered, securing the scarf in place. Pulling up the hood, he added, "it would be unawesome if people knew I wasn't where I'm supposed to be."
Madeline frowned a little. "You know you didn't have to do this," she told him, feeling a little guilty. He was right, of course. A royal traveling alone, or even with two companions who weren't highly trained guards, was risky. Far too many people would gladly take advantage of the lack of security. At best, the king wouldn't exactly be pleased.
Gilbert gave her a dirty look from under the hood. "That would be very unawesome of me, Birdie. You've heard Ludwig is the best fighter and strategist in our kingdom, ja? Who do you think taught West everything he knows? You are my awesome fiancé. It is the Awesome me's duty and honor to protect you. It's very unawesome that no one else could do it. Your brother is less unawesome, though."
If she wasn't already blushing hard, Madeline would have been a little more grateful of Gilbert's declaration, and his acceptance of her overprotective brother. As far as she was aware, only two other people had garnered the title of awesome besides himself. One was the fluffy canary that, upon further inspection, currently rested atop one of the saddle bags. The other was his younger brother, Ludwig. Coming from him, to be declared 'awesome' was the highest of complements.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
Gilbert glanced at her, at least she thought he did. "Gern geschehen, Birdie."
Madeline might still be struggling in German, but she'd made sure she could understand basic words and phrases. Hello, good bye, please, and thank you were among them. While she hadn't expected the words, it was the tone that surprised her.
BREAK/BREAK\BREAK
Minutes rolled into hours, and hours into days. Gilbert alternated between bouts of chatter, trying get Madeline to talk more, and falling into abrupt silence as soon as anyone else was in earshot. The first time it happened Madeline had been baffled, but then she realized it was because his voice was as distinctive as his appearance. There weren't enough Saxon natives running around for him to pass unnoticed.
When he wasn't promoting conversation, Gilbert proved himself to be a good teacher. Hearing the words made them easier to understand, and Gilbert was more than happy to help her learn his native tongue. He'd gotten a good laugh when he saw the one book Madeline had been able to find actually meant to teach the language. Two pages into the primer he was doubled over his saddle, howling with laughter.
"'The mouse is under the table'? When do you ever need to say that? 'The cat drank the milk'? Ja, but where's the beer? No one ever talks about this." Flipping through the pages, he asked, "Where does it tell you how to order beer? Food? 'The dress is pink', really?"
Eventually Gilbert had tossed the primer, and set about teaching her what he considered to be relevant phrases. These ranged from ordering food, to complimenting a horse, to requesting beer, to telling someone off. He seemed to take great pleasure in teaching her the swear words.
Things went quite smoothly for most of the journey. Madeline was hoping it would stay that way, but her luck wasn't that good. They were a day's ride from the border when trouble eventually hit.
So far the day as a whole hadn't been that bad. The rain that had been pouring down all night had let up just before sunrise, and while everything was damp, the air was crisp and cool, even after midday. Madeline was frowning, brow scrunched as she tried to get the pronunciation for ihm right, with mixed results. Honestly, it was the German version of 'him' for crying out loud. It was a simple pronoun.
"You're just clearing your throat, Birdie. Try it again," Gilbert was telling her.
"That's what it sounds like, and looks like," she informed him, stabbing a finger at the book in front of her. Madeline knew Gilbert was trying to help, and she was grateful, but for whatever reason she couldn't seem to get ihm to come out right.
"I'd like to see you try to learn French," she added.
Gilbert, or rather the cowled head, cocked to one side. "Vous êtes un peu tard pour ça, Birdie."
Madeline stared at him. "When did you learn French?" She demanded, miffed.
She didn't need to see his face to know he was grinning. "The Awesome me was too awesome for people to handle, only two people didn't think so. The king of Eiffel has a cousin that acts as our ambassador, and his son Francis was aware of my awesomeness. The nephew of the Madrid king was the same way. Awesome, right?"
Madeline made a face. "Don't tell me, you can speak Spanish too?"
"Sí"
She turned back to the book, frowning at ihm again. She was about to try again when the cart jerked to a halt in front of them, the Clydesdale whinnying a protest. Madeline frowned, about to urge Maple around to see what was going on, but Gilbert grabbed the mare's bridle. She looked at him sharply, and he held up a hand, motioning for her to stay put.
Madeline slowly stowed the book, watching wearily as Gilbert dismounted, drawing his sword. Her hand drifted uneasily to her belt, and the knife she had yet to draw for actual use. But no sooner had Gilbert slipped around the left side of the cart, than someone else stepped around from the right. By the time they seemed to notice her, a surprised look passing over his face, Madeline was blurting, "Snake!"
She felt bad about that, but it was the only thing she could think to do. Maple was terrified of the things, and even saying the word would send her into a panic. The man had come around the wagon rusty sword first. He was dirty, scraggly, and since she had yet to hear a peep from the guard, most likely not alone.
Madeline locked her knees against Maple's sides as she reared, whinnying wildly. It took a lot of control to get her to settle after a snake scare, and until then she had a bad habit of lashing out at anyone and anything in range. Considering the mare wasn't the largest horse around, she'd once put Alfred through a stall door.
This was the first time Madeline provided her with a target. She dragged Maple's head around, fighting to keep her from bolting. The man barely had time to shout before Maple bucked, then lashed out with her back hooves. The moment he was hurled off his feet, Madeline swung off her horse's back, grabbing Maple's bridle and dragging her head down.
"Easy, girl. Steady, steady," she urged. "I'm sorry, it's okay, there's no schlange. Easy, it's alright girl. Steady."
In front of the cart, someone shouted, metal clanged on metal. Madeline tensed, and after a moment of hesitation tied Maple's reins to the back of the cart. She pulled the long dagger from its sheath on Gilbert's saddle, and slipped around the cart. No sooner had she peeked around it, though, than the fight was over. Gilbert had the second robber on the ground, sword point at his throat.
"Who are you?" he demanded, tone hard. "Who sent you?"
"N-No one sent us!" the man protested, hands shaking as he held them up in surrender.
Madeline frowned, edging closer. Gilbert was speaking slower, managing to mask most of his accent. The robber looked thoroughly frightened, eyes crossing a little as he kept both of them on the sword point.
"What if I don't believe you?" asked Gilbert icily.
"I-It's the truth! Honest! W-W-We've been out here for a week. You're not the first ones we tried to rob," the man insisted, face dead white.
Gilbert didn't move away. Instead he rested the sword point lightly on the man's throat. It bobbed up and down as the thief gulped, not daring to speak.
Madeline thought fast. On one hand, the Gilbert she'd been spending time with wasn't one to slit throats for the heck of it. On the other, a reputation that ensured enemies thought twice about attacking wasn't easily earned. If Gilbert felt it was necessary, he'd do it. That said, she wasn't eager to kill if there was another option.
"Um, I don't think he's lying. Remember last night? Two people said they were robbed on this road. They mentioned two men."
Gilbert visibly stiffened. "Two?"
"Yeah, but he's down for the count. You're welcome. He's just some peasant turned robber, they both are. They're not worth it. Tie them to a tree, and the next town we get to, we'll tell the marshal were he can find the two highwaymen he's been looking for."
When it looked like the man was going to protest, she added, "It's either that, or he gets to kill you now. He's a lovely bodyguard, but he's been getting bored. I won't be able to promise anything merciful."
"Wait, you're a noble?"
"Yes, and you have gotten on his nerves. It was either execution for multiple murders, or lifelong service to me." Turning her attention to Gilbert, she said patiently, "I'm sorry, but you won't have time to skin them. We don't know when someone else is going to come along, and I would like to stay in an inn tonight. You'll have to settle for dismemberment and whatnot. And you'll have to kill them first so they don't attract any unwanted attention." Turning back to the would-be robber, she added, "It's his favorite game, see how much you can take before you bleed out."
Madeline was quite pleased to see the man looked just short of fainting with fear. She gave him her best, bright, sugary smile. "You're choice," she said sweetly.
"T-T-Tree! Please, the tree! Don't let him, please!"
Madeline pouted. "Shame. Alright, you heard him. Your fun will have to wait until we get to the next prison."
Gilbert, who was retaining his unusually long silence, inclined his head towards her, touching the fingertips to his forehead with his free hand. Then he reached down, hauling the shaking man to his feet. Madeline turned to the cart, remembering the guard as Gilbert dragged the man to the side of the road.
The guard had a large bruise growing on his temple, and was sprawled over his seat, but otherwise he seemed fine. Madeline laid him out on wide bench, rummaging through her pockets. It took a minute, but she found her smelling salts, something she'd started keeping on her person during her time in court. She waved it under his nose, and his eyes flickered open.
"How do you feel?" she asked, corking the vial.
He sat up slowly, looking first confused, then shameful. "What happened to the men?"
"Taken care of," said Madeline simply. "Don't worry about it."
"My duty was to protect you, my lady," he said grimly.
"It's not like you meant for this to happen. You were taken by surprise, that's all. Besides, both Gilbert and myself are hardly helpless."
In honesty, Madeline felt bad for the man. He wasn't exactly the best from her father's garrison, and he was getting on in years. He was nice, but he'd only been picked because he'd be missed the least. She didn't have the heart to admit that if they sparred she would probably win.
By the time Gilbert came back around the cart, hood still up, she had poured water from a canteen onto a cloth and was pressing it to the guard's head. In a lowered, gruff voice he said, "It's done, my lady."
Guessing they were still in earshot, Madeline nodded. "Good. Let's go, then. I'm getting bored."
The guard gave her a sharp look when the prince called her 'my lady', but she shook her head. Madeline dropped down from the cart, going back around to the now calm Maple. She untied the reins and mounted up as Gilbert did the same. Th cart started to roll forward again, and the two riders followed suit. Madeline was curious to see what Gilbert had done with the men, but didn't look back. She was supposed to be the holier than thou noble, after all, one who could care less about the lives of peasants.
Eventually, when they were well away, it was Gilbert who spoke up. "Why didn't you want me to kill them?"
"If you had to, I wouldn't have stepped in," admitted Madeline. "But I also don't like killing needlessly. They weren't assassins or anything, just highwaymen."
"The one you spoke to wasn't. His friend was."
Madeline looked as he held something up. A thin letter, bearing the broken wax seal of one of the southern kingdoms. Gilbert handed it to her, and she slowly opened it, feeling shaky.
Sure enough, inside was the order for Lady Madeline Jones of Fantasha, to bring proof of her death back to the kingdom of Rus. It was written by the kingdom's spy master, marked with his seal. Madeline knew that Rus had a shaky cease fire with Saxon, but it hadn't occurred to her that she'd get dragged into the mess. Until now, anyway.
It was almost as unsettling as realizing Gilbert had as good as admitted to killing them both after all. Madeline might not like it, but she was holding proof that at least one of them had been sent to kill her. Even Alfred wouldn't have let this go, especially if it had been Alice's name and not hers on the order. Normally the idea of killing made her uneasy, sick even, but she was surprised by the relief she felt.
Handing back the letter, she asked, "Are you saying that to make me feel better?"
"Nien. In a different situation, it would have worked. But the one with this letter did admit to not telling his partner his business. You were diplomatic and quick on your feet, Birdie." In a lighter tone, one that sounded as though it came through his standard cocky grin, he noted, "So the Awesome me as a criminal. There's a lot of servants who might agree with that. I can't tell you how many nurses my awesomeness ran off."
Madeline rolled her eyes. "Were there any left for Ludwig?"
"Sure! The Awesome me took him everywhere, taught him everything he knows. Vater said it was my fault there was no one left to watch him, so he would be my responsibility. I was a awesome big brother."
This made Madeline pause. She'd known Gilbert spent a lot of time with Ludwig growing up, but this was the first time she'd heard the full story. She hadn't met Ludwig himself yet, but he was the only person Gilbert talked about as much as he did himself. It was hard to read him when he was covered up still, but his voice changed when he spoke of Ludwig, as it usually did. Gilbert wasn't the sort to toss around genuine affection, but he always seemed to soften up whenever he spoke of his younger brother. It was sweet, Madeline thought.
BREAK/BREAK\BREAK
The incident with the would be assassins was the main source of excitement for the trip. Little else happened, save for a bout of thunderstorms that lasted the better part of a day. Madeline didn't mind, though. She had a feeling alone time with Gilbert would be harder to come by once they were in Saxon.
The day they reached the border was crisp and cool, the sun shining brightly overhead with no wisps of cloud to block it. Gilbert had lead them off the main highway, onto a lesser used road shortly after they had left the town where they'd spent the night. Madeline waited until they were away from prying ears to ask why.
"Elizabeta is meeting with us at a border post farther north. We changed the plans a little when the Awesome me came through. There won't be anyone there besides us and a few border guards."
Madeline arched an eyebrow. "So fewer people know you left the country?"
Gilbert laughed. "And because Elizabeta is very enthusiastic. She'll make a scene, and your awesome fiancé knows you hate making a scene."
That much was true. Even so, it surprised Madeline. She knew she was much more introverted than Gilbert, but it was the first time he's made allowances for this fact. It was unexpectedly sweet.
The gates themselves were much smaller and much less grand than the one straddling the main highway, just wide enough for four horses to pass abreast. On their side stood several guards wearing their kingdom's colors, and what looked like a few travelers taking a break on the side of the small road. It was nearing midday, so Madeline didn't think much of it. She was getting exited, despite the nerves starting to churn in her belly. This was the first time she would set foot out of Fantasha. This was it. She'd been expecting and planning for weeks, but still.
Madeline was still mulling over this when Gilbert urged Heinz into a gallop, startling her. "What are you doing?" she called after him.
The albino didn't answer. Rather he shoved back his hood, jammed his scarf down around his neck, and waved to the group of travelers. One of them, a woman with long brown hair, stood up. A bright smile lit her face, and she returned the wave.
"You're late!" Madeline heard her shout as they drew closer.
"You're early," Gilbert yelled back. "And you're on the wrong side of the border."
The woman shrugged. "We're not here to fight. They don't mind. Now where is she?"
By this time Madeline and the cart had caught up to them, and Gilbert turned to face her, beaming. "Birdie, this is the meanest fighter in all of Saxon. Elizabeta, this is my awesome fiancé."
Madeline blushed, but Elizabeta just grinned, apparently used to Gilbert's antics. As she dismounted, Elizabeta came over to her, surprising her with a hug. It was almost as surprising as the armor Madeline felt under her long brown cloak.
"It's good to meet you," said Elizabeta brightly, holding her at arm's length. "I'm sorry you're stuck with Gilbert, but it will be nice to have another girl to help me with the Belishmet brothers. Where's Gilbird? Ah, hello. Remember me?"
Madeline watched as the fluffy yellow canary that had spent most of the journey in the cart flutter onto the woman's head. She reached up, giving his head a careful one fingered scratch. He chirped, then relocated to Madeline's shoulder. Elizabeta laughed.
"Now I know you'll fit in. It took months for me to get him to like me. Are you hungry? We were just about to have lunch. Come, join us and you can tell me all about my new cousin-in-law."
Before she could do anything to protest, Madeline found herself seated in a ring of people that consisted mostly of female warriors. There were plenty of men among their ranks too, but no one seemed to care much. They were chatting and laughing, and despite a few arguments and an arm wrestling match, they seemed to be generally getting along. It wasn't what Madeline had expected.
Elizabeta sat her down in the middle of the group, dropped a set of saddle bags, then plopped down next to her. She pulled the packs open, taking out a some basic travel fair. Handing half to Madeline, she said, "So you're a noble?"
Madeline took the offered food. "Thank you. And yes, but not from an important family or anything. My father has a small eastern fief."
"Mm. So, we want to hear the story from the horse's mouth. Gilbert has a reputation for exaggerating."
Madeline hesitated as she suddenly gained the attention of the entire group, all the warriors giving her their full attention. She wavered, looking to Elizabeta. "Um, what story?"
"The one where you took your brothers place," said Elizabeta, eyes twinkling. "No offence, but many of your kinsmen have a reputation for being rather stuffy. It's fascinating whenever you do something so interesting. Please, tell us."
While she wasn't overly eager to share that particular story, the intent faces around her made Madeline give in. She didn't like disappointing people. And these people were meant to be her subjects, her guards, and hopefully her friends. She both needed and wanted their respect, but she'd be happy if they just liked her. Elizabeta seemed nice, but Madeline knew better than to think she could win everyone over so easily.
She tried not to embellish it, keeping it as real as she could, but they still seemed to enjoy the story. Especially when Elizabeta got her to admit she had in fact drawn Gilbert's own sword. It had been scandalous back home, but these Saxon folk seemed to hold it in the same regard as a tale of heroism, like a tale of a knight rescuing a princess would have been viewed back home. The more time Madeline spent with these people, the more she relaxed. They didn't expect her to be dainty and refined and polite. She'd gotten used to this with Gilbert, being able to relax and behave without restrictions, but she hadn't dared hope his kinsfolk would be so similar.
The meal was finished, and Elizabeta was teaching her the technique to arm wrestling when Gilbert joined them. He was grinning, folding his arms as he stood over them in the grass. "You're not letting her be too bossy, are you Birdie?"
Madeline shot him a dirty look. "She's not bossy, Gil." It came out a bit strained as she struggled to force Elizabeta's hand into the grass. She was gradually losing ground despite her best efforts, gritting her teeth and straining as much as she could. Elizabeta was a trained warrior, she was lucky to still be in the game, she knew.
Then, Elizabeta yelped. Madeline, still straining, slammed her hand into the ground before looking up in surprise. Gilbert, laughing, was already making his escape. As Elizabeta gave chase, brandishing her infamous frying pan, Madeline decided he must have given her a sharp nudge in her exposed side.
Madeline sat up in the grass, making a face. Great. She knew she was going to lose, but she wanted an honest game. She'd have to tell Gilbert as much, once Elizabeta was through with him anyway.
Heaving a sigh, Madeline stood and dusted herself off, joining the others as they prepped to move out. They still had a full week's journey to the Capital of Saxon, after all. Madeline was making sure her packs were secured to Maple when she heard a loud clang, followed by a yelp. A smile tugged at her face.
To be honest? They were a bit odd. They all were. But then she liked this particular breed of odd. It suited her. She was still smiling as she mounted Maple, Gilbert trudging back over and muttering unpleasant things about his cousin. She decided to wait to chew him out, letting him pout as he mounted Heinz. Gilbird fluttered down, coming to rest on his head.
Very odd indeed. But then she wouldn't love him any other way.
Gern geschehen - you're welcome.
Vous êtes un peu tard pour ça - you're a little late for that
schlange - snake
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