The next day followed oddly like any other day. I never got the chance to even see Ratcliffe. He remained in my father's study with some other advisors, and would not see me all day, even when I requested to see him that morning. I had only wanted to offer my support, but alas! he was far too busy, I was told.
I thought I should be insulted—after all, I was the princess. The governor should have been honored to accept my visit. But instead of wasting my time with petty feelings of wounded pride, I reminded myself Ratcliffe would undoubtedly be busy setting things in order to make sure his authority was grounded; my father's kingdom and its future depended on that. So I simply left the study and walked down to the schoolroom to have my morning lessons with Mulan.
The following day, I tried to see Ratcliffe again. His page, a man named Wiggins, informed me a second time that the governor was in a very important meeting with King Stefan's other advisors and could not be interrupted. I tried not to sigh in exasperation. Wiggins was loyal enough to his master, but couldn't he see that he was making me feel snubbed?
"Well, then please give him a message," I said. "Tell him if he wishes for any help, he will have it from me. If I am able to provide it, that is."
Wiggins bowed politely and said that he would be pleased to deliver my message. Then he gingerly stepped back inside the study and closed the door.
That morning I interrupted Mulan's history lesson to ask her why the governor would not see me.
"What makes you think I know?" she asked as she calmly lowered her book.
"You're a scholar. People respect your intelligence. They must tell you at least what's going on."
"You assume too much. I am only a tutor," Mulan said evenly.
"Well I am a princess, and people are always condescending to me!" I complained. "Why can't they ever be straightforward with me? Why can't I ask my questions and get a blunt, honest answer?!"
"No one will be blunt with you unless you give them permission," Mulan responded. "But since you ask for bluntness, may I be so bold as to ask why Ratcliffe's statesmanship matters so much to you?"
"I know nothing of statecraft," I said. "And I want to participate so I can learn!"
Mulan looked strangely concerned. I wondered why she hesitated to reply. Then at last she said, "If you really wish to participate, I suggest you first request being allowed to sit at the governor's meetings so you can observe them. But until you are invited to speak, stay silent and listen."
"How can I make such a request when I am constantly being disregarded? Ignored all the time by Ratcliffe and patronized by that infuriating Wiggins!"
A smile broke out on Mulan's face. "So you think Wiggins is absurd too?"
"Absurd! The word does not describe him enough!" I cried. "He does not question anything, he only smiles and does what he's told! I do not believe he thinks at all! What am I supposed to do about that?"
"Feel sorry for him. He doesn't really live, he always merely exists," Mulan answered, her smile fading somewhat. "If that were me, and I had the capacity to realize it, I'd sure feel sorry for myself."
Before this could turn into a full-length discussion about intellectual virtue, I asked a question in reference to Mulan's book, and the history lesson resumed.
That evening at the banquet I found myself seated next to Governor Ratcliffe. Perfect! I thought. This would be my opportunity to request participation in kingdom policy.
I did not make the request right away. I knew I needed to find a way to ask gracefully. So I stayed silent through the first course of supper, and then finally had my opportunity to speak when Ratcliffe addressed me. Still, I kept my sentences at a simple, conversational tone.
"So, my dear Princess," Ratcliffe said, wiping his mouth with a red cloth napkin. "I hear you have taken up studies in Latin and history. Very good, very good."
Very good? What did he mean? He couldn't possibly be talking about my progress, because he knew nothing about it. Stop overanalyzing and answer him, I told myself. "Yes, Sir, I suppose it's . . . beneficial."
"Indeed," said Ratcliffe, not looking at me as he spoke. I waited for him to say more, but he did not. At last I decided to speak on my own.
"But I am also studying literature and theology," I added.
"Most fitting," he said, albeit disinterestedly.
"Mulan hopes to introduce me to mathematics, so she can begin teaching me that as well," I continued.
The governor seemed to cough into his napkin, but I'm sure he was trying to hide a laugh. I said nothing; I had learned by now most court members did not believe a woman had any use for studying mathematics.
"But," I continued, thinking carefully, "I have been taught nothing of statecraft. Perhaps because I will never be meant to rule as a king would . . . But I do want to understand how a kingdom should be run. And I would prefer to learn from someone who has experience."
Ratcliffe looked at me curiously now, but he did not say anything.
"May I observe your governance?" I asked. "I will not say anything to interfere or distract you, I only want to learn."
Ratcliffe was now scrutinizing me. I wondered if he thought I had potential to learn well and he was trying to judge whether I would be worth instructing. Assuredly, I looked back at him, instead of modestly lowering my eyes as a lady should.
A slight frown creased the governor's face, but it quickly passed. He seemed to change his mind about something. "Welcome to the world of prosperity," he said, bowing his head slightly. "You shall report to my study tomorrow morning at ten o'clock sharp."
"Is it not the king's study?" I asked. Ratcliffe looked at me furiously. My eyes widened and I almost drew back. Had I said something I should not have? I only meant the governor had misspoken in calling it his study, as it was really my father's.
Seeing my reaction, Ratcliffe seemed to realize that I meant no insult, and put on an oddly crooked smile as he said, "Of course. The king's study. That is what I meant, dear Princess. So clever of you to point that out . . ."
He continued eating his dinner and I was glad not to have to speak to him anymore. What had that been all about?
Inevitably the music started playing and it was time for dancing. I rose from my seat and hurried to the center of the hall. I wanted to escape from that awkward incident. But of course Phillip was not present, and I looked around almost frantically for someone who would take me as their dance partner.
Fortunately, Flynn came to my rescue as he took my hand and began swirling about the hall with me.
"Didn't think I'd ignore the silent pleas of a lady in distress, did you?" he asked, grinning. "I can read you like a book, Princess. What did that corpulent louse say to you?"
"He's no louse," I answered, smiling in spite of myself. "He's very . . . well-spoken."
"If he's so well-spoken, why did you want to get away from him so badly?" There was no hiding anything from Flynn.
"He didn't exactly seem overjoyed to hear from me . . ."
"He's a sneak," Flynn said to me, suddenly lowering his voice. "My uncle distrusts him because he mistreats his servants and licks the boot of every duke and clergyman here."
"Mistreats the servants?" I repeated, my eyes widening a little in shock.
"He curses at them if they do not get their work done quickly enough. He even strikes some of them. My uncle saw him cuff one of the squires once," Flynn added a little furiously.
"But . . . how dare he?" I asked, truly shocked now. "My father would never allow that. He would banish Ratcliffe if he ever found out. Didn't your uncle report this?"
"I do not think he had the heart to get Ratcliffe thrown out of the kingdom," Flynn answered. "He confronted him, though, and warned him if he ever saw Ratcliffe raising his hand to a servant again, he would tell King Stefan."
I looked over at Ratcliffe. To my surprise, he was already looking right back at me. It was a look of worry and of . . . anger? Was he angry at being bothered with me? He seemed to be trying to give me a warning that I would do well not to interfere with his authority. Why? I couldn't help thinking. What threat could I be to him? And then I saw the look he gave Flynn, with whom I was still dancing. It was a look of resentment and absolute hatred. Did he know Flynn was the nephew of Sir Fitzherbert? Did he hate Flynn for his association with the knight who confronted him?
In that moment, for one brief second, a feeling of dread came over me. I felt as if a horrible sickness had invaded the court, and it would be impossible to contend with. But the feeling lasted only a second, and soon I felt myself relax.
Alright, you've heard and seen some things, I told myself. Keep them in mind, but don't overreact. Just stay calm and if there is a situation, do what you think it calls for.
The problem was, I didn't like admitting that I thought there might be a situation. I had no idea what might happen, and the uncertainty was uncomfortable. An intuitive sense told me to be wary; a selfish and uncaring man had been granted a significant amount of power. That scared me, though I did not completely understand why.
That night I lay awake in bed for a very long time before finally falling asleep. A nameless anxiety had invaded my mind, and it would not leave me.