They ask me to have breakfast with the Ladies of the court. It is not a question that I have the freedom to answer no to, so I agree. They clad me in the same dress as yesterday and escort me to a sitting room in the bowers.
Mary has taken on the task of introducing the Ladies of the Court to me and she does it graciously.
I nod my head and do my best to smile politely, but the parade of curtsies is tedious. When my stomach grumbles loudly, I ask Mary: "Is there a way to cut this short?"
Her eyes widen: "It would be most impolite, my Lady. The ones who haven't met you yet are dying to do so."
I bite back the remark about people actually dying that wants to find its way past my lips and instead ask: "Can we sit down at least? Something to drink and a pancake would make this easier on me."
Again, she looks scandalized but at least she nods. You don't refuse the crown-princess's wishes if they are only halfway outrageous.
I'm almost through my pancake when I figure out why she is so scandalized. I am the only one eating actual food at this breakfast. The others nibble at a piece of apple or sip at a glass of cider. But no one eats anything of substance at all. It makes me want to eat a second pancake just out of spite. They have no idea how it is to go hungry because there isn't enough food, but they starve themselves because this year's fashion has tight corsets. I grind my teeth to quench the seething anger that suddenly courses through me. Could anything make it clearer how little I fit into this world than this honeyed pancake?
Then suddenly calm engulfs me. Like balm on a wound, it takes the spikes out of the pain, reins in my bitterness.
"Your Highness, are you alright?"
I had my teeth clenched so hard that it needs a moment before I can answer: "What? Why? Yes!"
"You are crying, Your Highness", she hands me a handkerchief, finally embroidered, and I take it before her words even catch up to me.
I dab at my cheeks and indeed, they are wet. "I am sorry, I am still exhausted", I mutter, leaning away from her to regain my balance.
"Oh, you must have had such terrible experiences, Your Highness. You are so brave to have made it through!"
I stare at her blankly. I do not even remember her name.
Worry is mixed in with the calm now, subdued but there. Blessedly there in the bond where there was emptiness until a few minutes ago. I smile through my tears. He has noticed my state of discomposure even half a palace away. Something warm and fond blossoms, half-buried in the time that I have been Eliza again, but so much deeper than this name which I wear like a mask.
"Thank you", I tell the girl, "I appreciate your concern." But I mean him, not her, and I let my gratefulness flood the bond.
It is easier after that. My tears subside and I listen and learn what I can of the different factions and feuds and sympathies until the clock strikes ten.
On the clock, a page makes his way into the room. "Your Highness", he says with a stiff bow, "the Earl asks whether it suits you to re-convene now."
Thank goodness, finally, is what I think, "yes, thank you", is what I say.
It is only Frederick in the meeting room when the page leads me in. Though the table is cluttered with books and maps, he stands by the window and looks out.
"Good morning, Cousin", I greet him.
He turns around and gives me a bow, more formal than necessary. "Your Highness."
I give it a pass and go to stand beside him: "Is the view giving you any hints on how to proceed?"
He shakes his head: "Sadly no, my Lady."
I can feel his gaze on me and instinctively I cross my arms over my chest. But I turn towards him. It is better to face this head on. "We were friends once, Cousin. So whatever troubles you, spit it out." I say it with a smile that I don't feel.
He studies me intensely, before abruptly turning away. "I remember you as a wild child. You were always pushing for more dangerous games. You were never gentle. Unless I got hurt."
"Some things don't change. I am still pushy", this time my smile is real.
"Other things do change, though. I didn't remember you to be this beautiful."
I double back at that. "There is no need for flattery, Cousin."
"It is not. Flattery, I mean."
For a moment, we are both quiet.
"I loved you", he finally continues. "Back then. Before you died."
I do not know what to answer to that so I stay silent.
"Have you met my wife yet?" There is something close to hysteria in his voice.
"No, I don't think so, no."
"She's pregnant. Due in a month or so."
"Congratulations", I offer honestly.
He laughs a bitter little laugh: "Had I known…"
"…you would have married her anyway", I interrupt quickly before he can make an even bigger mess out of this than he already has.
His face falls when he understands what I'm saying.
"I look forward to meeting her, I'm sure she is a wonderful woman", I add to dampen the blow.
"Are you saying I'm not good enough? Is that it? Am I not good enough for you?"
I feel an urge to take a step back from him but I don't. Showing fear makes the hurt animal attack. "We were friends, Frederick. Friends. I want to be friends with you again. I want to find a way to stop the burning of your cities. Of my cities. I do not want to talk 'what ifs'."
It is the most direct rebuke I have ever given and he reels for a moment before finally swallowing hard. "I'm at your command, Your Highness."
I lay a hand lightly on his arm. "Thank you, Cousin. It means a lot."
There is a cough from behind, so I turn. The Earl has entered and with him his highest-ranking officer and Deadman.
"Uncle", I take the few steps towards him and embrace him lightly, giving him a kiss on each cheek that is so fleeting that it never touches his skin. But my eyes go behind him, searching and finding Deadman.
His eyes burn into mine. Uncomfortably, I step back from my Uncle. I have no idea how much of my talk with Frederick has bled through the bond. I have to make a conscious effort to keep my feelings from him, and I rarely do.
"Let us sit and see what we know", my Uncle invites to join him at the table.
He rolls out a map and points to the city: "We know they set out from here on foot. There are three major roads they could have taken from here…"
I drift as he starts explaining how far they can have gotten on foot or if they stole horses.
Deadman has managed to make someone give him decent clothes, leather pants and a simple shirt. They fit him much better than yesterday's embroidery. I should have thought of doing the same and getting a more practical outfit. I would also feel better if I had a medical kit by my side, even if it was a small one.
"Niece?"
"Oh, Uncle. I am sorry." I feel the blush coming on. Not good to be caught drifting. "I thank you for your detailed evaluation." A small smile lightens the bond and I take it as a good sign. "I would be very interested in Deadman's opinion on the matter. Deadman, have you made up your mind which path you want to follow?"
I can't keep my nervousness to myself and I fear that if he says he wants to leave I might be very undignified and start to cry on the spot.
He regards me silently for a moment. Then he nods solemnly: "Yes, Your Highness, I have made up my mind."
"Tell me?" I ask him and hate how small my voice sounds.
"I will need some freedom to make a few investigations. So I'll need to be able to come and go as I want. And I won't report to anyone but you."
I have to close my eyes for a moment and let the relief wash over me. For the first time since I've entered the palace, a real smile crops up: "You know that you have your freedom. I would never try to take that away. And my Uncle knows that you are loyal to me and wouldn't try to hinder you." I look at my Uncle with raised eyebrows and he has little choice but to nod. Letting the moment of hardness drain out of my voice, I turn back to Deadman. "Thank you."
I hope it conveys what I want to say even though I can't say more in public. It seems to work, because his nod is less curt and even accompanied by a small smile. He turns back to the men at the table: "You have laid out the radius that needs to be searched very convincingly, but I can tell you right now that you will not find him this way. You will find him when he wants to be found."
There are murmurs of dissent but he shakes his head and talks right over them: "You should be discussing how to draw him out when you are ready and want to meet him. That's your only chance to prevent more bloodshed."
The murmurs grow louder but I hold up my hand to silence them: "How do we draw him out? And how do we get ready?"
"I do not know, Your Highness. Not yet. Not all of it at least. I'll need to gather some information."
"From whom?" my Uncle demands.
"Others like me, first and foremost. Others like her, too." He nods in my direction.
Frederick's eyebrows shoot up: "Others like her? There are no others like her!"
"There are no other crown-princesses. There are other drabarni."
"You don't mean healers only", I venture.
"No, bari-chey, though healers would help. But so would seers. And trackers."
"How do we find them?"
He shakes his head and lets his resolve show in the bond.
"Alright", I nod, "nothing you can share."
"What does that mean, nothing he can share?" Frederick's eye-brows seem stuck in a permanent frown.
"It means, Cousin, that it is nothing he can share. You wouldn't share where you keep the key to the treasure vault or the one to the dungeons for that matter. He won't share the secrets of his clan. And you", I raise my voice when he opens his mouth to argue, "will respect that."
My cousin closes his mouth with a snap.
"Niece, I understand your need to establish your authority. But this is still my house and my war council", my Uncle's voice is low but furious. "I will not allow anyone but your father to take it over."
I take a deep breath to let my frustration run off of me before I answer. I am too used to doing what I want to do without regards for proper protocol. Protocol is awfully tedious. "Uncle", I start haltingly before running out of things to say.
"We should use all available roads to gain control of the situation", Deadman takes over. He waits for a nod from me to continue, and I give it gratefully. "Searching the woods in the radius you described might yield results. My method of finding information to lay a trap for them is a second option that runs on different timeline. There is no need to decide to do either or. You are a lot more adept at running your military and communicating with your spies than we are. I will not get in your way, and I believe neither will Her Highness. We'll follow our own approach instead and just ask for the freedom to do that."
My Uncle nods immediately satisfied at this: "I can live with that. We'll re-convene and report once we have results."
He is glad to have an excuse not to invite me to his councils anymore, I realize. I'm too bothersome. "Fine by me", I nod my agreement, "but Uncle, we will need some resources. Money and gear. Horses. A few trusted men. Can you give that to us?"
My Uncle nods, not quite hiding his relief that I have agreed not to interfere in his running of his country anymore. "Of course, Niece. Pick and choose whatever you need. My house is at your command."
"I thank you, Uncle, that is most kind."
He nods again, a smile spreading on his face: "Shall we close this meeting then and make our way to lunch?"
This time, the murmurs around the table all agree and I stand up, hence allowing everyone else to get up, too.
But I don't leave with them and instead turn to Deadman: "Would you come on a walk in the gardens with me? I could use some fresh air before settling down to lunch."
"Of course, my Lady." But his bow is the fluid motion of a skilled actor and not the stiff disdain of the past few days.