Important note for new readers who may have been drawn to this story by its R rating. Like the characters, this story "grows up" as it progresses. Part I of this fic is no more than PG, mainly because the characters are all very young when it starts. Part II is PG-13 for language and mild sexual references, and only Part III really merits the R rating. However it is a single three-part story rather than a trilogy, so I am stuck with the house rule of maximum rating for the whole.
Please do not be put off by this story featuring an invented character. In fact, in "City of Intrigue", Millerna has a dark-haired companion/serving-woman, and given Meiden Fassa's ambitions for his son it seems to me quite plausible that if he had a daughter he would find her a position close to the royal family. Unless someone can prove otherwise, I think my explanation of her identity is as good as any!
Disclaimer: The Vision of Escaflowne is owned by Sunrise and Bandai Entertainment. No copyright infringement is intended by this not-for-profit story, although the author would like to point out that this doesn't mean that others can freely copy this text and claim it as their own!
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PART ONE: HEARTS
In courtesy I'd have her chiefly learned;
Hearts are not had as a gift but hearts are earned
By those that are not entirely beautiful.W. B. Yeats, 'A Prayer for My Daughter'
'Carenza, play something for us. I'm bored.'
Carenza bit back a sarcastic remark and took up her lute. She had been so proud and excited when she was asked to be lady-in-waiting to the Asturian princesses; it was like gaining three sisters at once. Sometimes, though, it seemed she was little more than a privileged servant. On the other hand, it wasn't really Marlene's fault. She was only twelve, which from Carenza's lofty vantage point of almost fourteen made her still a child.
'What would you like, your highness?'
The golden-haired princess cocked her head on one side and appeared to consider.
'How about...'The Charge of the Knights of Caeli' ?'
What a surprise. It was only the fifth time she had asked for it today.
'Very well.'
She bent her head over the instrument, concentrating on the tricky fingering needed for the opening bars. Three-year-old Princess Millerna scrambled to her feet, clutching a china-headed doll.
'Loulo and me want 'Fairy Dance'. La-la, la-laa-la,' she crooned, totally off-key.
'Your big sister did ask first...'
Millerna's lower lip trembled and tears welled up in her enormous blue eyes.
'All right,' Carenza sighed. 'Two verses of the Fairy Dance, then I'll play your sister's song.'
'Fine,' muttered Marlene. 'Let the little brat get her own way as usual.' She flounced out onto the balcony in a rustle of powder-blue frills.
'Don't mind her,' said Eries. 'She's just impatient for the guests' arrival.'
Carenza paused with her fingers hovering over the strings.
'Why? It's just the King of Fanelia coming on some diplomatic mission.'
'Haven't you heard? He's bringing his son and heir this time. Father and he are planning to betroth the prince to one of us.'
Carenza frowned. The middle princess was the quietest and most sensible of the three, and though only nine, seemed already to be in her widowed father's confidence.
'I thought Marlene was already betrothed to Duke Mahad dar Freid?'
'Not formally. And besides, Marlene says he's so old he'll probably die before they ever get married.'
At that moment Marlene burst into the room.
'They're here! Oh, do come see!'
Carenza and Eries followed her onto the balcony. Below them, the Fanelian entourage were riding into the courtyard. They soon spotted the king, a tall dark-haired man astride one of the camel-like beasts the Fanelians rode instead of horses. At his side was a slender youth with silver hair.
'He is rather handsome, isn't he?' Carenza sighed.
Marlene gave her a mocking look.
'I don't know why you're so interested, Carenza Fassa - princes only ever marry princesses, not merchants' daughters.'
Carenza stuck her tongue out for want of a more witty retort, and instantly regretted it. The prince would choose that very moment to look up at the balcony. She blushed as deeply as her olive complexion would allow, and fled into the safety of the house, almost running into the governess who was heading out onto the balcony.
'Come along, girls, your father has granted King Goau an immediate audience, and you must be there to greet our guests.'
Of course it took more than a few minutes to get all three princesses ready for a royal audience, and by the time they reached the throne room, the trumpets were already blaring. Marlene and Eries hurried to take their places on smaller thrones either side of their father, whilst the governess sat to one side with little Millerna on her lap. Carenza tried to slip discreetly amongst the crowd of courtiers, but the senior ladies-in-waiting formed a wall of brocade skirts that she could not breach without an embarrassing scuffle.
Cursing under her breath she sidled into the central aisle and tried to find a gap in the ranks of Asturian nobility. To her horror the Fanelian entourage were halfway down the aisle by now. As she finally slipped into a space between two courtiers, the party drew level with her. A silver-haired boy of about her own age - surely the same prince she had glimpsed from the balcony - glanced at her sidelong, trying to suppress a grin. Carenza's heart sank into her embroidered shoes. Was it her destiny to always look a fool in front of the Fanelian prince? Wrapped in her own misery, she barely noticed the formal introductions being made.
'...And in honour of our guests,' King Aston went on, 'We shall hold a ball three days hence.'
Carenza sighed. A ball. Wonderful. Another opportunity for her to make an utter fool of herself in public. Not to mention having to put up with Marlene's crowing for three whole days. Her only compensation was that Dryden might be allowed to attend. Her younger brother was very grown-up for a lad of nine and cleverer than all three princesses put together, which made him one of the few people she could have a sensible conversation with these days.
After the formal audience was over, Carenza collected her lute and made her way to the summerhouse. She felt almost too melancholy to play, but her mood demanded music and there was no-one to play for her when she asked it. After a while she began to sing.
'When I behold the lark arise
with wings of gold for heaven's height,
to drop at last from flooded skies,
lost in its fullness of delight,
such sweetness spreads upon the day
I envy those who share the glee.
My heart's so filled with love's dismay
I wait its breaking suddenly.'
She strummed the last chord and let the lute fall silent.
'That was...beautiful.'
A young man was leaning against the entrance to the summerhouse, silhouetted against the sky.
'May I come in, my lady?' he asked.
She nodded, too startled to reply.
'I saw you at court,' he went on, 'but we haven't been introduced. I am Folken Lacour de Fanel, Crown Prince of Fanelia, etcetera, etcetera...' He made a flowery gesture with one hand, grinning.
Carenza coloured. Him, of all people!
'M-my name is Carenza Ailea Fassa. My father is one of King Astons's councillors.'
'It is an honour to meet you, my lady.'
'The honour is all mine.' She laid the lute carefully on the bench beside her. 'And please, just call me Carenza; I'm not a noblewoman, only a merchant's daughter.'
'All right - Carenza the merchant's daughter. Tell me, did you write that song yourself?'
'What - oh, no...I found it in an book. It's very old, but I like it a lot.' What am I saying? I sound like Millerna. All right, take a deep breath and try to act like a sophisticated young woman for once.
'I hear that the forests of Fanelia are delightful in spring.' Good; a nice safe topic of conversation.
'They are indeed. Perhaps you will have a chance to see them for yourself one day.'
'That would be lovely, except...isn't it dangerous, with all those dragons roaming loose?'
Prince Folken's garnet-coloured eyes narrowed. Oh dear, thought Carenza, what have I said wrong now?
'Of-of course Asturia has its own charms,' she went on hastily. 'The foothills of the Floresta Mountains are renowned for their wildflowers, and Palas itself has many fine formal gardens...'
To her relief the prince seemed to relax, and they talked for a while about inconsequential things, like the weather and the prospects for the next harvest. He told her about his little brother, Van, and she told him about Dryden, recommending a storybook that Dryden had enjoyed when he was Van's age.
After a while, she couldn't help saying, 'So, which of the princesses are you going to marry?' She regretted the words almost as soon as they were out of her mouth. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
Prince Folken smiled ruefully.
'You as well? Everyone seems very keen to marry me off all of a sudden.'
Oh well, it's too late to change the subject now, she thought. At least he doesn't look so cross this time. She took a deep breath.
'It's just that Marlene and Eries are my friends and, well, that is why your father brought you here, isn't it? To choose between them?'
'I really don't know that I would choose either one of them.' He ran a hand through his pale hair, which looked almost blue in the dim light of the summerhouse.
'You don't like the princesses? They are really very pretty.'
'I suppose they are, if you like that sort of thing.'
'What sort of thing?'
'You know. Blonde curls, big blue eyes, frills and flounces and costas and costas of lace...' He sighed.
Carenza smiled.
'It sounds like you're describing Loulo.'
'Who's that?'
'Princess Millerna's doll. She has a china head and cleverly-weighted eyes that close when you lie her down and open when you lift her up again.'
Prince Folken laughed, and clasped her hand.
'Oh, Carenza! I shall never be able to look any of the princesses in the eye again,' he spluttered. 'Princess Loulo...'
Carenza felt dizzy. He was holding her hand-
'Prince Folken? Your Highness?' The shouts were muffled by distance, but their import was clear.
He looked at her, a tear trickling from the corner of his right eye, and gently released her hand.
'Damn, they've found me already. I'd better go,' he said, wiping his eyes. 'Thank you for a pleasant hour away from the stuffiness of court affairs.' He bowed, and before Carenza could say a word, he turned and left.
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Author's notes:
In her excellent Dryden shrine, Merchant Prince, Sarah-neko speculates on how Dryden picked up his 'New Man' attitude to women, so I created an older sister as his role-model. And being a big Jane Austen fan, I placed her in the Asturian court as a wry observer on the follies of the younger generation. As for the Folken strand of the story, I thought he deserved a little shoujo romance of his own, and none of the existing female characters really fit the bill without major changes to their background. I hope this dovetails neatly into the existing plot of 'Vision of Escaflowne' whilst explaining some of the past behaviour of certain characters.
P.S. The poetry is not mine. It is an extract from 'Can vei la lauzeta' by Bernart de Ventadorn, a twelfth-century troubadour.