Chapter 26

Aftermath

Being so happy with what she'd just heard, Lana's eyes shed tears as she tried to talk. "Marry m-me? That…that's w-wonderful." Her lips sought out his, and they crashed together in an impetuous kiss. Besides being an expression of her love, the kiss was also the beginning of her pledge to him.

"I love you, Sir Clark of Kent," Lana said. Her words were formal, but her voice was filled with warmth and good humor. "I swear I will offer no encouragement to any other man while you fight for my hand."

Clark winced inside to hear her use his false name. He wanted to let her know all about himself and about the difficulties they would face in trying to earn his parents' permission to marry. True, he was now old enough to marry on his own. As a knight, he was considered to be an adult and didn't have to wait until he was twenty, but as a noble, his marriage had to be approved, and since he was a prince and a duke, it meant he had to gain the king's approval.

A darker thought was that if his father died, he could choose his own wife, but even then the Council of Dukes would want to know why he was marrying the daughter of a relatively insignificant man. And in any case, Clark didn't want to have to lose his father to gain Lana's hand; he wanted to convince his parents of her suitability to be his bride.

Knowing he needed approval of his prospective bride gave Clark an idea. It was something he wished he had thought of before. As Duke of Borussia, he was the liege lord of several counts, and below them, a large number of barons…one of which happened to be the Baron of Roskilde, Lana's father. Clark realized he could use the power of his own office to prevent Lana from having to marry anyone else while she waited for him.

I can write a letter in my own hand, Clark thought, using the ducal signet ring hidden in my traveler's belt to make it official, and declare an absolute ban on Lord Lang marrying any of his daughters off to anyone. I'll have to wait to have that letter delivered until it's time for me to leave though or else risk detection. I don't care who guesses my identity once I've left.

The only way Lord Lang can overrule my decision is to apply to the king, and even I don't know where Father is right now. Good luck with finding him these days!

Pleased he'd come up with a way to prevent anyone from marrying Lana, at least until he'd had a chance to work on his parents, Clark floated the both of them toward a soft landing in the courtyard. He wondered, Who would've ever thought I'd be hoping to marry for love?

"So what do we do now?" Lana asked, as her slippered feet slid off of his and came to rest on the ground. She was still holding him and rested her face against his chest briefly before moving back to where she could see Clark's face in the flickering torchlight of the courtyard.

"We spend time together, as much as we can and get to know each other better, because there's no telling how much longer it will be safe for me to stay here after today's exhibition."

"Why do you hide? Who hunts you?"

"You've heard about the rebellion back home, haven't you?" Lana nodded. "Someone having me in their possession might try to influence my family one way or the other. Or they could just kill me to get me out of the way.

"And if my parents disappear or are killed, I will have to return to Alemannia to help take care of my family's interests."

Lana squeezed Clark harder when she heard he might have to venture into what was shaping up, according to the few vague reports they'd gotten, as a full-blown rebellion. "Please be careful. With things as you say they are, you are in danger wherever you go." She moved in close once more, leaving her lips only inches from his. "And know, that wherever you go, you take my heart with you."

A final kiss, warm and sweet, before Lana reluctantly backed off. "I need to go. I have to get some sleep to look my best tomorrow."

"Why? Who's coming?"

"Prince Harold is coming so we can get to know each other a little bit better before the Harvest Ball."

The reminder that Lana would be attending such an occasion in another man's company, especially a man Clark knew and liked but did not trust with women, made a flash of anger shoot through his body. For Lana's sake he had to take a risk.

"Lana…"

"Yes?"

"Please be careful with the prince."

Curious, and wondering what was causing the worried look on his face, Lana said slowly, "I will be just as careful with Prince Harold as with any man."

"That may not be good enough." Lana's head tilted to one side and her eyes narrowed as she wondered what Clark was getting at. "I know Prince Harold considerably better than you do. He spent a year in Alemannia, primarily in the royal court, where I happened to be living at the time. He and I became good friends, and the women all seemed to think him charming. All except for my sister."

"Your sister? What happened?"

Clark shrugged and began to wander around the courtyard. "She wouldn't say, but there came a time when she could no longer abide his presence. He seemed to think she was playing hard to get and still has hopes she'll come around.

"She won't though. Not my sister. I've learned to trust her judgment about people. So while Harry and I get along famously, I do not trust him alone with a woman." Clark stopped walking and his eyes looked at Lana with an intensity she had seen earlier today when he'd left the wagon to defend her. "And yet he's now going to be escorting not my sister, but the woman I love, to a huge event in his family's own palace. Please be careful. Do not let him take you off alone, for if I carry your heart with me, you surely have mine wrapped around your finger."

Clark emphasized his point. "Friend or not, prince or not, if he harms you in any way at that ball, I will kill him."

Lana was convinced Clark meant what he said. The idea that she was going to the ball with someone who apparently liked women a bit too much, a bit too soon, worried her. But surely the prince wouldn't risk an incident. And anyway, she thought maybe Clark was just being a bit paranoid, or even a bit jealous. Still, she'd keep to crowded rooms just to be safe. After all, she recalled the words of an old royal security chief in one of her favorite history books, where the man had said sometimes paranoid people are right.

"Don't worry, Clark." Lana held one finger up in the air. Significantly, it was the traditional finger for an Alemanni noblewoman to wear her wedding ring. She made a twisting gesture with the fingertips of her other hand around the base of that finger, and said, "I will take good care of your heart." With that, she dipped into an elegant curtsy, which Clark returned with his most formal bow. Then she moved back toward the door, collected her maid, and disappeared into the manor.

Clark figured Lana could take care of herself, now that she had been warned, but he was of a mind to see Harry when he came, both to call in some favors so his friend wouldn't give away his identity, and to let him know in no uncertain terms that Lana was off limits.

The next morning, he was up early as always and was ready and waiting when Bruce came down to the corner of the waryard where they always practiced.

"You know," Clark said, by way of greeting his instructor good morning, "Lady Alicia told me the other day, during her dancing lesson, that she thought this waryard should be dug up and planted as a formal garden and that the waryard should be in back of the soldiers stables."

"Oh really?" Bruce was slightly surprised to see Clark here, now that he had earned his knighthood. Quite frankly, Bruce had expected Clark to sleep until it was time for lunch. "Wearing the medallion already?"

"Yeah, but I'm going to have to keep the box on my person at all times from now on."

"You've got that right. Even I can't be trusted to keep it. I can be overpowered…but not you."

"Nope, not me." Clark leaned against a wall and waited. "Don't worry, Bruce, we've got time enough to let an old guy like you warm up before I kick your ass."

"Sounds like someone's been into Lord Lang's 4X ale," Bruce said as he limbered up, "because that's a lot of tough talk for a pretty boy." Bruce stayed silent until he was warm and then walked up to an arm's length from Clark, who finally straightened up. Looking slightly to the right, Bruce said, "I hope I don't end up having to embarrass you in front of your new girlfriend."

"Huh? What?" Clark's head whipped in the direction Bruce looked and Bruce took that moment of distraction to launch a punch right at Clark's head. There was no one there, Bruce had been bluffing, but the mistake he made was that the long shadow cast by his body in the early morning sunlight fell in that direction. Clark saw the arm moving forward and instinctively dropped to the ground. Bruce had fully committed to the punch, missed Clark's head by inches, and crunched into the brick wall behind him.

Bruce screamed like his warhorse had just kicked him in the nuts. It felt to him as if he had broken every bone in his hand. After that first scream, came a string of complex curses that did everything from questioning the marital status of Clark's parents when he was born, to whether he was closer to his mother than any prince since Oedipus…and that was just when he was warming up.

Clark tucked the amulet away and then forced Bruce to let him take a look at his injured hand. Bruce had the swearing down to a manageable volume, but they already had a sizeable crowd.

"Sorry, Old Man," Clark muttered. "It looks like you'll have to suffer for awhile. If anyone here sees me heal you, I'll have a line of sick servants and soldiers by lunchtime, and an even longer line of locals with sick children and farm animals by the morning.

"The good news is that your hand is fixable. Only slight breaks of three fingers. Too bad it's summer. No ice for you. Unless…" Clark cupped his hands around Bruce's injured one and blew on that injured hand with the smallest dose of ice breath to freeze the hand long enough to get Bruce out of sight.

"Oh yes!" Bruce was ecstatic, as the freezing temperature reduced his pain immensely. It also helped keep his hand from swelling. Clark rushed him through the crowd and into the manor. Once back in Bruce's room, Clark shifted his energy, loosely held Bruce's injured hand, and uttered the key word, "Vigoratus."

Once again, Bruce felt a wave of energy pulse through his body, and when it was through with him, the pain in his hand was gone, too. "You are a freaking miracle worker!" he exulted, as he flexed his newly healed hand.

"Yeah, well, since you've got two good hands, you get to splint your hand so it looks like it might be injured. And you get to take a few days off from any kind of physical stuff."

Bruce grumbled, but realized Clark was right. He'd end up spending all day healing milk cows and pet goats if word got out.

"I'll be downstairs at breakfast. After that, I've got another day of dancing lessons, Lady Lois first." Clark was about to leave, and then he shot Bruce a look. "You know, with the aggressive way Lois dances sometimes, maybe you ought to be her dancing instructor. You could teach her holds, flips, leg sweeps…the whole lot, and she'd like it ever so much more than what I teach her."

Bruce chuckled. "Leaving you more time to spend with Lady Lana."

Clark bowed slightly and acknowledged the accuracy of Bruce's statement. "What can I say? For the first time in my life, I'm in love."

"Go on. Get out of here before I puke. This lovey-dovey crap's more than I can take."

During his two hours dancing with Lois, Clark had to admit how good she was becoming, despite his earlier comments to Bruce. She did have the occasional tendency to lead, but even that was coming under control. That, however, wasn't the biggest surprise. That honor went to Lois' question asking what exactly had happened to Bruce and her expression of sympathy for the man.

Deciding Bruce could use some female company, Clark said, "If you'd like, Lady Lois, you could visit Bruce, I'm sure he'd appreciate a friendly face. He's got his hand bundled up just in case his fingers are broken and start to swell, so he might not come out of his room much while he rests the hand."

Lana was up next, and to his mind, the radiant smile she sported and the extra care she'd obviously taken to look good today made her look more beautiful to him than ever. He couldn't wait to tell her so. Speaking softly to ensure no one out in the hallway heard him, Clark said, "I've had thousands of dreams of what my future wife would look like. They all fall short of reality…far short."

Pleased with Clark's reaction, Lana twirled in place, showing off her dress along with a quick glimpse of her calves that his quick eyes did not miss. She was also pleased, and a bit puzzled, that he was not turning into a jealous man over her impending meeting with the prince. Her puzzlement lasted only until she realized he had no reason to be jealous. After all, he had a plan in place to prevent her father from marrying her off, he had already warned her about the prince's sense of entitlement when it came to women and she had already pledged to not encourage any other man.

Their time dancing went well considering Clark was introducing Lana to a dance that was completely new to her. It was close to their usual noontime lunch break, when a breathless servant came scurrying to the door to inform Lady Lana that Prince Harold had arrived and hoped to join her for lunch.

"Well," Clark said, "that sounds like the end of our day together. See you at dinner?"

"Of course, but be forewarned that Father will likely invite Prince Harold to stay for that meal, too."

"Oh great. Harry's never met a meal he didn't like. He might end up staying long enough to be offered a sweet for a late night snack."

Lana was just about to leave the dancing room and straighten up her appearance before heading down to meet the prince, when the prince in question entered the dancing room itself, in hope of escorting Lana down to the dining hall.