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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The day of Marlene's wedding to Duke Freid drew near, and the eldest princess decided that the sisters should have a trip out to the countryside together, since this was the last time she would see them for many months. King Aston agreed that a picnic was a very suitable entertainment for young people, and suggested that Allen Schezar could be spared from his palace duties to act as their bodyguard. Carenza of course was invited as companion and chaperone to the princesses, and at Meiden Fassa's suggestion his son was added to the guest list 'since the grown-up princesses ought to have a gentleman each to escort them'.
So it was all arranged, and on a bright summer's day the little party set off into the hills above Palas. Marlene, Allen and Carenza rode in the first carriage, and Dryden, Eries and Millerna followed behind.
'There really is not room for four in a carriage, not in this heat,' explained Marlene. 'And there ought to be a gentleman in each carriage for safety's sake.'
Eries' expression suggested that she did not feel Dryden's presence would add to her safety. Carenza shot her brother a warning glance, but he was wearing the glasses he had designed for summer reading and his expression was unreadable behind the tinted lenses. She noticed that he was carrying a book with his finger tucked inside to mark the place, and doubted that either princess would get much conversation out of him on the journey.
They reached the chosen picnic site, a hill with fine views of the surrounding country, a little while before noon. Whilst the princesses strolled about debating the best spot for a picnic, the footmen began unloading the hampers, folding chairs and tables and all the other impedimentia needed by elegant young ladies eating out of doors. A position was eventually settled upon, about halfway up the hill, where a lone chestnut gave some shade. Chairs and parasols were set up, and the footmen began preparing luncheon.
Within minutes the folding table was laid with dazzling white linen and silver cutlery. Bowls of nectarines and cherries, rounds of cheese and endless jars of sauces and pickles emerged from the seemingly bottomless hampers. Two servants unpacked loaves of bread, butter and cold meats and assembled plates of sandwiches on a side table. The head footman produced a bottle of white wine from a terracotta cooler and began pouring it into glasses of fine Asturian crystal.
'Wine, sir?'
'No, thank you,' said Allen. 'I believe it would be best if I kept my wits about me. I wouldn't wish to alarm the ladies,' he added in an undertone, 'but one can never be totally sure that a place like this is free of bandits.'
'We have some lemonade that was provided for Princess Millerna,' the servant suggested.
Allen nodded.
'That would be perfect.'
The footman poured Allen a glass of lemonade then, with a nod to Carenza, motioned for the servants to retreat to a discreet distance.
'Allen, do come over here,' called Eries. 'Marlene and I cannot agree on how far we have come from Palas. I say it is not above five mile, but Marlene insists it is nearer ten.'
'I'm afraid your sister is right, your highness,' Allen said, bowing deeply to Marlene. 'We are about a mile from the village of Estemirada, which I know to be precisely four miles outside Palas.'
Marlene pouted. 'Well it certainly felt like ten miles in that horrible carriage.'
Dryden looked up from his book.
'Maybe your sister's just been looking at the maps in the council chambers,' he said. 'Hey, Eries, did ya know that 'Estemirada' means 'East View' in Old Asturian?'
'Yes, Dryden. You're not the only person who knows a couple of languages, you know.'
'Hmm, I'd say more than a couple-'
Millerna gulped down the last of her lemonade and jumped to her feet.
'That's enough picnic,' she announced. 'Allen, will you show me your sword?'
'I really shouldn't - it's very sharp.'
She came round the back of his chair and leant over to rest her chin on his shoulder.
'Oh, please?'
'All right,' he said, putting down his plate. 'But you'll have to promise me you won't try and touch it.'
'I promise.'
He got up and walked a few yards away from the picnickers, drew his blade and held it up for Millerna to see.
'Ooh, it's all shimmery-wavy along one edge!'
'That's the way the metal's worked. It's been folded over and over to make it light but strong.'
Millerna dashed away and picked up a long stick from beneath the chestnut tree.
'En garde!' she cried, and held it up like a sword. 'I am Black Millerna, Scourge of the Asturian Main!'
Allen grinned, sheathed his blade and found himself a similarly harmless weapon.
'Avaunt thee, blaggard!'
They paced back and forth, fencing with their sticks. After a flurry of blows that showered the protesting picnickers with fragments of bark, they moved a little further up the hill. The Knight of Heaven paused in his defence to strike a heroic pose, and Millerna duly ran him through, snapping the point of her 'rapier' on his serge uniform. Allen clutched a gloved hand to his ribs and collapsed melodramatically to the ground.
'He's very good with Millerna, isn't he?' Carenza remarked quietly to Marlene.
'He's a sweet boy,' the princess sighed. 'And of course he did have a little sister of his own once.'
'Really? What happened?'
'The poor thing just disappeared one day. I think it was the same year that you lost your prince.'
The casual reference caught Carenza off-guard. She had not thought of Folken since the afternoon Marlene had told her of her intentions toward Allen. She suddenly felt unable to sit still any longer. Excusing herself, she rose and went to the table to choose some fruit.
Allen, having recovered from the death-blow, had retrieved his plate and was cutting a slice from a fruit cake studded with almonds. Carenza was surprised to see that he still wore his white uniform gloves, even to eat a picnic.
'Aren't you hot in that uniform?' she asked.
'I have been trained not to notice it,' he said. 'And I felt that it was important for the princesses to be seen to be guarded by an elite knight, not just by servants. The uniform of the Knights of Heaven is known throughout Asturia.'
They stood for a while, gazing across the valley towards Palas and discussing the history of the city, until Carenza had to concede that it really was too hot in the sun. Allen apologised for his thoughtlessness and escorted her back to her seat.
'Have either of you seen Marlene?' Eries asked.
Millerna flung herself down on the grass at her sister's feet, panting like a dog. Her blonde curls were dark with sweat and plastered to her temples.
'I think she went into the bushes over there,' she said, pointing downhill with her stick. 'She looked like she needed to, um, go.'
'She shouldn't just wander off on her own like that,' Allen muttered. 'One never knows what kind of ruffian might be lurking around those woods.'
He drew his sword and stalked off towards the copse.
'If her highness is engaged on business of a, er...delicate nature, perhaps I should be the one looking for her,' said Carenza, running after him.
'Very well. You go ahead, and I will follow in case of peril.'
Carenza set off towards the trees, with Allen following a few yards behind.
'Marlene! Mar-lene!'
There was no sign of the princess anywhere. They moved cautiously through the copse, expecting to find some scene of horror at any moment.
'Marlene? Where are you?' Allen shouted, a note of fear in his voice.
Suddenly there was a rustle from behind them, and Carenza turned in time to see Allen being dragged into some bushes. She was about to shout an alarm, but something she had seen made her pause. After all, it seemed rather unlikely that bandits tied their sleeves with pink ribbons. Now, however, she was in a quandary. She felt stupid standing around in the copse whilst Allen and Marlene canoodled in the bushes - the others would be worried if there was no news soon - but nor could she go back, leaving the lovers alone together, for fear of encouraging gossip. After a few moments' indecision she decided to count to twenty and then interrupt them, whether they were done or not.
One, two, three...
Really this was very inconsiderate of them. It put Carenza in a very awkward position.
...Seven, eight, nine...
She did feel sorry for Marlene, though. And Allen didn't seem to be doing much to discourage her attentions, either.
...Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen...
There was a shriek from uphill, back towards the picnickers. She set off at a run. A bramble snagged her skirt but she ripped it free and ran on. Emerging from the copse, she saw, not the expected scene of carnage, but Dryden lying in the remains of a collapsed deckchair with Millerna sitting astride his chest. The little princess was raining blows on Dryden's upraised arms, until he managed to catch her wrists and restrain her.
'You take back what you said about my sister!' Millerna shouted in his face.
'Eries, help me!' Dryden pleaded.
'I don't see why I should.' Eries was staring tight-lipped into the distance.
'What in heaven is going on?' Carenza demanded. 'Ah, ah, one at a time!' she amended, as both combatants tried to give their accounts at once. 'Millerna?'
Millerna glanced at her sister.
'This creep said that if Marlene was going to sneak off to kiss Allen then he wanted a kiss from Eries.'
Carenza raised an eyebrow.
'Well, little brother?'
Dryden shrugged sheepishly.
'I guess I...well, I thought a certain person had fallen asleep, so-'
'Really, Dryden, I don't know which is worse - propositioning Eries or slandering Marlene. Have you learnt no manners from those expensive tutors Father hired for you?'
'I'm sorry, all right?' he grumbled. 'Now will you get off me, please, princess?'
'Not until you've apologised to both my sisters,' Millerna said.
'Well he can hardly apologise properly with you sitting on him, can he, dear?' Carenza pointed out.
The young princess reluctantly let Dryden up. He picked up his glasses, which had been knocked off in the struggle, bent the wire frames back into shape and put them on. They sat on his nose somewhat lopsidedly, which did not help his dignity. He bowed deeply to Eries and murmured something, to which she nodded curtly. When Marlene and Allen reached the picnic spot, Dryden made a stammering apology to them both. Marlene tried not to giggle, but Allen flushed scarlet and his hand crept towards his sword hilt.
The servants, too, had come running when they heard Millerna's screams. One or two still had a beer bottle or clay pipe in hand, but the head footman was carrying a loaded crossbow. Carenza explained that it was all a false alarm, and suggested that, since the afternoon was wearing on, it might be a good time to think about going home to Palas. Everyone except Millerna hastily agreed, and the servants began packing away the remains of the picnic.
On the way back down the hill, Carenza suggested to Allen that perhaps he should take the coach with Eries and Millerna on the return journey.
'I think it would be politic to keep Dryden and Eries apart for a while,' she said. 'And it would look better for you, too, if you did not appear to have spent too much of the day with Princess Marlene. People will start to gossip.'
'I just hope that brother of yours can hold his tongue,' Allen muttered.
'I will speak to him,' she promised. 'And perhaps you could speak to Millerna. She seems to look up to you.'
'I'll do that. Thank you, Carenza, you are a true friend. I know Marlene and I can rely on you.'
Oh yes, she thought. Good old dependable Carenza. Everyone knows she has nothing better to do than look after princesses and their tangled love lives, for she has none of her own.
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Author's Note: Another shameless piece of Austen pastiche - mea culpa! (Admittedly it is rather more boisterous than Ms Austen's works.) In fact there are so many similarities between the Asturian section of 'Escaflowne' and the plot of 'Sense and Sensibility' that Sarah-neko and I suspect the series' writers of some serious plagiarism...