"The Modest Proposal"
Samuel hardly ate a bite that evening, as if by denying himself food he would be more apt to be up before dawn the next day. Sure enough, hunger gnawed him awake earlier than usual, and he rose and was dressed and cleaned by the time the sun broke over the horizon. Usually he only took enough care toward his appearance to suffice for his position of kingship, but today he found himself taking extra care on shaving and trimming his beard, making sure his outfit was free of the slightest speck of dust or stray threads, and that his nails and teeth were impeccably clean. He didn't think he had spent as much time in front of the mirror in the past year as he did that morning, but finally he went to the dining room.
As soon as he entered, he was pleased to see that he was the first one there aside from the morning staff. The table was still being set, with the head servant present and directing them to make another spot for their guest.
He approached him immediately. "Excellent work. And someone is available to present her the invitation when she wakes up, yes?"
"Our guest has been up for three hours, my lord," he answered as he kept overseeing the table.
Samuel reacted in some surprise. "Really?"
"The night watchman saw her lamp come on, and when her attendant looked inside she says that she saw she had gotten out those floral shirts of hers and was returning to work on them. We provided her both with the attire you requested as well as your invitation. She nodded in response."
The king mused over this for a moment. If she had been up at least that long, then she hadn't gotten nearly as much sleep as he thought she would have. And she was already up and back to stitching those shirts again? He had thought being in the comfort and finery of the palace might have persuaded her to put whatever task she was doing aside for a while.
He put it out of his mind. So long as he arrived before she did, he was fine with it.
Of course, as it turned out he had overdone it a little. He ended up pacing around and sitting in cushions tapping one foot for an entire hour, doing nothing but staring at paintings on the wall and the place settings, before Lorenzo finally entered.
"Good morning, my lord," he mused on seeing him. "Nice to see you up early for a change. It's a healthy habit to have."
"Yes…yes, quite," he absent-mindedly muttered back.
"Something on your mind keep you from sleeping?"
"I suppose so."
He raised an eyebrow. "Something…from yesterday, perhaps?"
"…Perhaps."
Lorenzo's lips pursed in that mildly disapproving look, but he said no more.
It was about a quarter of an hour later when Diego arrived. He said his own appetite was like a horse after yesterday, in spite of the fact he ate enough for himself and Samuel the night before. By that time, they all took their places, with Samuel seated at the head of the table. The spot on his right was left open as usual, but Diego soon noticed that he had been moved down another spot.
Glancing at it, he looked up to him. "So you're expecting your 'guest' this morning?"
"Unusual to afford a peasant such an honor," Lorenzo mused. "It would be a small matter to provide her meals in her room, especially if she's needing more rest. And she could always eat with the rest of the castle staff."
"I always preferred more company at meals."
Lorenzo frowned and looked back to his own plate. "I only hope she doesn't make too much of a spectacle of herself. I dare say she's likely never even seen a fork before…"
A clicking of shoes rang out—the result of one of the dining room servants coming in. The three men looked up as he stood at attention.
He opened his mouth a moment, but paused, suddenly looking a bit perplexed, before he adjusted himself and spoke. "The king's guest has arrived."
Both Lorenzo and Diego as well as Samuel raised their eyebrows a little at that. While it was normally custom for whenever they had guests for them to be announced before entering the dining room, that was because most of their guests were nobility and they knew to contact the servants before making their appearance. For this dirty forest girl to have known to do that was a little surprising.
At any rate, Samuel was the first to rise to his feet. Diego and Lorenzo followed shortly thereafter. The servant stood aside, and soon after she came walking down the short entry hall and into the room.
Samuel nearly gasped to see her. She was as lovely as a field of wildflowers in spring before, but now she was immaculate. To him, she seemed to almost glow when she entered the room. The dress suited her perfectly. Where most would think a peasant might wear it idly or sloppily, she had arranged and tied it perfectly. Her own long hair had been brushed and arranged. And now that she was clean and free of any spot of dirt, with a tad more color in her cheeks, she was a vision of loveliness. Even Lorenzo had a hard time not giving a start at her.
For Samuel, whatever feelings he had felt yesterday that had cooled now surged with more passion than ever. He almost felt warm looking on her in the same room again.
Her face was just as melancholy as yesterday, however, and she kept her head slightly bowed on entering. As soon as she was within, she surprised them again but grasping the edges of her dress and performing a dignified curtsy. Very poised and proper. In spite of having been a forest dweller, she looked as if she had practiced it for years.
She held there for several seconds before Samuel even regained enough of his wits for him to realize she was waiting for him to bid her rise. Quickly, he did so, almost spastically, and she stood once again and looked at him.
He smiled. "Good morning, fair wood sprite," he found himself saying before he knew it. He was a bit surprised at his own pet title for her, but on seeing her react to that name and turn a bit pink at it, it only made him smile the wider. He gestured to his side. "Please, join us."
The young woman looked about a little, both at the room but also at the other guests. On seeing Diego's indifferent look and Lorenzo's somewhat harder one, she quickly looked away from them and to the floor again. She walked over to the seat, but stopped at the edge of it. She seemed a bit confused, and the king realized she wasn't sure if she should pull her own chair or wait for a servant to draw it. In her case, the former of the two was likely the most appropriate. However, Samuel immediately beckoned for the nearest servant to come forth. He seemed a bit perplexed to be doing this for a peasant, but he came forward and drew her chair for her none the less. She nodded in gratitude, then was seated.
The others immediately took their own seats, Samuel included. To Diego and Lorenzo, his gaze focused so intently on the girl that he seemed to no longer realize they existed.
"Did you sleep well?"
The young woman paused momentarily, seeming to not expect to be addressed, but then nodded once.
"I'm glad to hear it. I was afraid for a moment after hearing you woke up so early that the bed wasn't to your liking. That dress suits you very well. You look radiant in it."
She bowed her head a little more to him at that.
"You need not stay confined in your room today, either. Feel free to explore my castle. You should like the gardens. And there's a great many picture books as well…"
"Her majesty, Queen Eleonora."
Hearing his mother being announced, the king quickly broke off his dialogue and looked to the entry hall. A bit to his surprise, Lorenzo and Diego were already standing. He quickly followed suit as well, but no sooner had he arisen than he noticed the young woman did as well, standing just as attentively as the rest.
The servant stood aside. Eleonora, done up stately and regally again, walked into the chamber soon after as if she had been officially announced at any affair of state. She glanced over the people in the room momentarily, her eyes passing over the young woman but not lingering on her, before she turned and silently began to walk to her own position. As she went, the girl gave her a dignified curtsy as well. Eleonora never glanced in her direction once, not acknowledging it in the slightest.
Soon the queen's own chair was pulled and she sat down as well. The others immediately did afterward, and she stared forward—seeing the new seating arrangement and how it had left the young woman directly across from her…and next to her son.
She glanced down the table slightly. "This is a bit unusual. Diego, I'm so used to seeing you sit next to the king that I hardly know what to make of seeing you one position down. It's almost upsetting."
He winced a little at that, and Samuel himself bit his lip and said nothing.
She idly shrugged. "I've been eating too much at meals anyway. I could use something to spoil my appetite." Almost looking "around" the young woman, her gaze turned back to Samuel. "I'm glad to see you up so early, my lord. There's a great deal of business Lorenzo informs me that needs to be started on."
Samuel nearly grimaced at his mother's first comment, but Lorenzo took that as his cue. "Yes…I'm afraid that the late King Luca's former westernmost neighbors have decided that they both want the choicest part of his former land for themselves, including his own castle proper, and they have been unable to settle their claims to it peacefully. Within the week, war could break out between them. While I feel it's best that we remain unaligned with either side, at the same time there are potential consequences for being apolitical in this conflict. One or even both will likely contact us for support, and we should make a decision about who we will support and how much. Depending on who wins the conflict, it could have dire consequences for our own sovereignty, as I'm sure you understand."
This last phrase was punctuated a bit. While Lorenzo had been talking, the servants had gone about setting out the dishes, and Samuel's eyes had drifted back toward the young woman as she herself had been served. She sat there patiently, waiting for everyone else to take what they liked first before she tried anything, but he earnestly awaited her own reaction.
Yet on hearing himself being addressed, he looked up. "Oh…? Oh, yes, of course. Most certainly." His eyes drifted back to her.
Lorenzo gave him a look. "Then what would you decide?"
"Hmm?"
"Which of these two cities should we support?"
"What? Oh, oh! Well, naturally, we should…um…consider that very carefully before reaching a decision."
Lorenzo stared a moment, before moistening his lips. "We can revisit that in a moment. There's another issue of patronage. The bishop has sent out another request for additional funds for the cathedral in Firengia. He asked if we could double our annual contribution. The queen believes it's worth ever lira and calls it an investment in eternity. I, personally, think on the other hand that the bishop has been using it as an investment in his own livelihood. It was only 20 years ago that he had contributions doubled and from what I heard there is little change in the work to show for it."
"They had to start an entirely new quarry in that time. As well as deal with infighting among the craftsmen," Eleonora spoke up. "We'll be judged on what we contributed to Our Lord, not on what His stewards do with our freewill offerings."
"I still think an increase of 25 percent is more than generous, and not a bit more. What do you think, my lord?"
Again, his eyes had drifted to the young woman, especially now that she had taken a bit of bread for herself. The way she looked at it indicated she hadn't had bread in years. He eagerly awaited her verdict.
"…My lord?"
"Hmm?" He glanced back to him. "Oh yes, of course." His head turned back to her.
"…Of course we should go with 25 percent?"
"…25 percent of what?"
Lorenzo grimaced a little. Eleonora herself removed a piece of bread from a tray offered to her and began to split it apart to dress it, leveling an increasingly hard gaze on her son. She was quiet a moment before speaking up again. "I also think now would be a good time to talk about the issue of your future wife, my lord."
"Indeed," Lorenzo added. "I understand now isn't the best time, but we must make do with what we have. The most opportune moment to have chosen a wife would have been seven years ago. Since then, most of the noble ladies in the surrounding area have taken husbands of their own. Yet there are some to choose from right now, and if you don't act more swiftly this time I feel you'll have to wait another seven years for more candidates, so to speak. There's Lady Sofia of Aora, but I would highly recommend against even considering her. The last thing we want to do is be yoked to either of those warring cities by marriage. That leaves, at the moment, Lady Chiara. On the queen's suggestion, I feel an invite is in order. We should host her for one or two days, you should see how you like her, and, if all goes well, perhaps you can make the proposition within a month. Normally I'd say to peruse a few others, but the only other one reasonably close by is Lady Caterina, and it would be better if we visited her in that case. It would take the rest of the summer to set up in either occasion. Do you agree, my lord?"
"Do you like it?" Samuel asked the young woman as she took a bite, attaching to her as soon as she saw her eyes light up and a savoring look on her face. "We can have that for supper as well."
Eleonora's lips curled downward as she held up her knife and dropped it on her plate, creating a sharp enough clatter to get Samuel to snap around completely to them.
"My lord, I'm fully aware that we normally try to leave affairs of state off of the meal tables, but considering that you insisted on going with the survey yesterday there is much to catch up upon," Lorenzo stated.
"And it seems as if your own appetite has not recovered from yesterday evening if you can find nothing better to do than watch unexpected guests eat," Eleonora added sternly. "Those aren't terribly good manners, my lord…toward anyone at the table."
Samuel nearly frowned, but forced himself to turn more in his seat to face everyone. He finally served himself a bit of bread as he straightened. While it was a little curt, he looked at Lorenzo and nodded. "My apologies. Pray, continue."
"I was just asking if you approved of inviting Lady Sofia for a few days to the castle."
He had been about to tear his own bread apart when he stopped. He slowly set the bread down on his plate and at it for a moment.
"My lord?"
"I suppose that would be the right thing to do."
Eleonora and Diego both looked at him in some puzzlement. Lorenzo didn't seem to know what to make of that answer.
"Then that means you wish to invite her? Or are you saying you would prefer to visit Lady Caterina?"
He kept quiet. His eyes glanced up again, over to the young woman. In spite of her upbringing, and the fact she clearly enjoyed the food far better than what she was used to, she was forcing herself to eat civilized…and, in all honesty, with the same manners and dignity anyone would expect from a real noble. Far more than anyone living in the countryside. One would hardly expect anyone who looked like her yesterday to have such decorum. If it wasn't for her raw hands, still looking red and tender from her strange work, no one would have known she hadn't been in castles and manors all her life.
He finally looked back down to his plate. "I…believe we should go with whoever is best."
Eleonora nodded in agreement as she sipped her wine.
Lorenzo, on the other hand, raised his eyebrows a little. "Admirable sentiment, my lord, but I feel I should remind you this isn't entirely a political arrangement. This isn't just the future queen of Beneserta but your future wife. The one you will spend the rest of your life with. A good element of that should be who will make you happy."
Diego nodded, already having moved on to the meats. "I agree wholeheartedly. You end up with the wrong woman and it'll be rot on your bones, mark my words. God rest my grandmother's soul, but my father always said she sent my grandfather to an early grave. Life's too short to be paired with the wrong woman."
Samuel continued to stare at his bread.
"…Indeed."
The king didn't know if Lorenzo or his mother realized it, but he thought quite a bit about that moment from the meal for a few hours afterward. In fact, it dwelled on his mind more heavily than all of the rest of his affairs. Whereas normally he looked for any excuse to get out of the castle, on that day he walked up and down the halls thinking about that as the sun rose to and past midday.
It was about that time that he wandered out to the gardens. He was still deep in thought when he came out into the sunlight and looked up ahead toward the stand of trees around the pond. At that point, he finally snapped out of his brooding.
There she was. Whether it was because she had accepted his offer or because she was simply more used to being outside, she was sitting on a grassy spot close to the pond. Much like when he met her, the floral shirts were arranged on one side and she was back to working on the one she had been at yesterday. While he had mentioned there were stinging nettles in his gardens to her the day before, the truth was that was a bit of an exaggeration. The gardeners kept a good watch on them and pulled them out usually, but it looked like what few had been left behind had already been gathered by her in a small pile. Now she was busy putting them together again.
She didn't seem to have immediately noticed him, so he ventured forward a bit more quietly without trying to alert her before pausing again. All of the things she had brought with her yesterday were out, including the piece of wood and her flint knife although she kept that to one side. The container she had yesterday was open, however, and she was dipping her fingers into it periodically. As he watched, he slowly began to see the method in how she was able to work.
She would take whatever petals she had gathered and slowly dab them with what was in the container, which seemed to be some sort of substance from beeswax or the like. By very delicately going over them, she would gradually cover the petals. Once she had a good number of them like that which had dried, she would start layering them together on one another. He wasn't sure how many all together but it looked like as many as twenty or more. Only once that was done would she start the careful work of putting in center stitches through all of them to hold them together. Even then, she had to be gentle or risk damaging them while putting them into one. Finally, once that was done, she'd bring it over to the emerging shirt and delicately begin to stitch it in. These "petal arrays" were layered on top of each other in such a way to reinforce one another, and so it took her some time to insert them in both above and below. Definitely meticulous work. Too many stitches would tear the petals, but too few and the shirt would come apart.
He wasn't able to see the entire process for start to finish. He stood there nearly an hour watching, not wanting to look away or sit, and realized she had them on a bit of a queue to keep things moving, but still only managed to get one completed set put into the shirt. And this was when she was working with practiced skill. It would easily take months for her to finish even one of those shirts. She had to be working on the other five for years.
He risked venturing a little closer, just to get a better look at the completed shirts. While still at a distance, he could see the differences. The very first one was ramshackle, having been torn and repaired many times, not having quite the same pattern as her current one, and rather crude and roughed up. Many of the petals that made it up were crumpled or fragmented. The second one was much better, with only a few mends. The other three all looked more or less the same. In other words, she had clearly been teaching herself the best way to make these.
He watched a bit longer before, at last, he saw a change. As she was taking up another set of petals to start stitching them together, she reached to her side first. A moment later, she emerged with what looked like one of the books from her guest room. She opened it to one page, set it down against the grass, and looked at it while she put the other petals in her lap.
She seems to be rather cultured for a 'wood sprite'.
Wait…could she…
Realizing what that meant, the king forgot himself and began to rush forward. In doing so, he made more noise that he wished, alerting her. At once, she stopped in her work and wheeled around.
Fortunately, he had caught himself just in time and stopped before he could look like he was charging her. "Oh…good afternoon! Sorry, I startled you…again. I was just wanting to check and see how you were doing."
She stared at him without going back to her work, but she also eased fairly quickly. He took that as a good sign. Soon after, he walked forward again, much more calmly this time, and stopped at her side. He held a moment, moistening his lips and trying to think of how best to segue from here.
"So…did you enjoy your meal?"
She nodded.
"Would you like to join me…us for supper as well? Or we can bring your meals to your room if you like? Not that I…we wouldn't want your company at supper, just whatever you prefer."
She blinked. Her face looked a bit uncertain.
Samuel just realized he had given her something that couldn't be answered with a yes or no, and he nearly sighed at himself. "That is…would you like to join us for supper again tonight?"
She seemed to get this, at least. However, she looked uncertain, and a little uneasy, this time.
He realized why. She had attracted more than her share of stares that morning, and some of the comments that the queen had made to her left him feeling embarrassed and, he was sure, her rather unwell. Now he felt uncomfortable for having suggested it.
"Supper's a long way off. You can decide later," he finally spoke up. Folding his hands behind him, he looked around a bit more, and finally toward her shirts. "I…see you're back to your work again." A pause. "Going well?"
She frowned ever so slightly.
He almost wanted to smack himself alongside the head. Not only did he feel awkward saying that, but again it was another question that couldn't be answered with yes or no. He decided to cut right to it before he made any more of a fool of himself, looking to the book.
"I see you decided to look at the books you had in your room," he glanced over it, and soon lit up. "Oh, and it's a book of poetry! Does that mean…I mean, forgive me if I'm too forward, but does that mean you can read?"
She nodded.
He almost lit up. "Perfect! Just wait here one moment!"
Immediately, he turned and rushed back into the castle. A few minutes later, he emerged with a bit of sharpened charcoal and some parchment. She was still there when he returned, looking at him somewhat curiously but having not moved from her spot. He quickly went to her side and put the parchment over the book cover, using it as a tablet, and held the charcoal out to her.
"You can talk to everyone like this. You can tell me your name and…"
He trailed off. The girl looked very uneasy when he held the charcoal out to her. In fact, she looked almost fearful and instinctively shrank away from it just a little. He hadn't seen her look that distressed since he met her yesterday, and as a result he immediately pulled it away.
"What's the matter?"
She kept staring at it, her fear easing but looking very uncomfortable. She shook her head.
"No? No what?"
She put one of her tender fingers out on the parchment and on the charcoal, and shook her head again.
"You can't write?"
She nodded.
In spite of his attraction to her, he couldn't help but look confused at that. "Do you mean to say that you can read but you can't write?"
She nodded again.
"But…but that doesn't make any sense. If you can understand what's in these books, then you should be able to write something down. Just give it a try. Try to write what you see in the book. Just one word for starters…"
He trailed off again. She was wincing now, looking more unwell than ever. Pressing her to write something was clearly making everything worse on her. He didn't know why, but seeing her look like she was almost hurting was more than enough for him. He nearly flung the parchment and the charcoal behind him.
"I'm sorry…I'm sorry, I didn't know it would trouble you so much. Please, forget I even suggested it."
She still looked unwell, although now it seemed to be toward her own reaction rather than him, but she eased again when he removed the parchment and the charcoal. After that, she sat quietly, head bowed and arms in her lap.
Samuel himself stared back, beginning to grow uneasy as well. He didn't mean to cause so much distress. He had hoped he could get a bit closer to the young woman and now it looked as if he had driven a wedge between them. He quickly glanced about, trying to find some way to amend this situation. He finally looked back to the book.
"So, um…you enjoy poetry?"
She hesitated a little, but nodded.
"Diego does as well. He must have memorized thousands of lines. I don't see how he remembers it all, but all the women fawn over him whenever he can quote it." He smiled a little. "I never read too much growing up. I loved myths and fables more than anything. But...I was always a tremendous fan of plays. I love reading them or seeing them performed. They're the highlight of every festival for me."
By now, she was easing more and looking back up at him.
"I even like the old Greek plays. It's how mother got me to learn to read it. I…don't suppose you've ever heard of the play 'Lysistrata', have you?"
She blinked, and shook her head.
"No? Well," he smirked, "just between you and me, that's not one that I try to let my mother in on that I'm familiar with. I don't think she'd approve. However, there was a more modern take on it that was a bit more toned down that some of the festival performers did last harvest season, and I liked it so much I commissioned a written copy. I would be more than happy to read it while you work. That way you wouldn't have to keep looking up from your stitching."
She hesitated again, but only a moment. Much to Samuel's pleasure, she seemed to think it was a good idea. She nodded soon afterward.
"I'll return in a moment, wood sprite," he smiled.
Samuel didn't think he had run this much in and out of the garden since he was eight years old, and it definitely wasn't as easy as he remembered it, but the thought of being able to do something for the young woman that she would appreciate egged him on. He actually tore apart his own bookshelf a little looking for it before he found his copy, then quickly ran out and back to the gardens. She had returned to her own stitching by then, but as soon as he was there she looked up and to him on his return. In a moment, he was back at her side and had the play open in front of him.
"Now I'm no performer, so please forgive me if I don't quite manage to separate the voices that well. I always did have too much of a deep tone for the female parts…"
Clearing his throat, he began, making sure to call out the stage directions and setting as he did.
Needless to say, he had only gotten a few lines into the play when she stopped in the middle of her work again and looked at him a bit wide-eyed. However, he took that as a good sign. The play, after all, was not something that many expected even if they knew the premise, but that was what he had been hoping for. Something unexpected but delightful…which seemed appropriate. She gave a real start, however, when he did his best for a falsetto tone for the ladies. Even more than that, he tried to vary it up when speaking for the different women. By the time he did his variant on one of the stronger and 'more muscular' women, she was smirking a little. Soon after that, she spread into a full smile at the next round of comedy, and had nearly abandoned her stitching all together to listen to him.
He was feeling rather pleased with how this was going when he got to the next part with the country's women storming the treasury, and the humorous altercations that resulted. She smiled a bit more with each of their dialogue, and he smiled more as well. He finally said one particular line that had always sent him into a fit of laughter every time he heard it performed, waiting to see her reaction.
On speaking it, her lips parted, and her smile was so large he thought for sure she would burst out.
Yet before she could make a noise, suddenly she turned deathly pale. Her hands snapped up over her face and clutched her mouth fiercely, almost as if she was trying to smother herself. Her eyes widened in absolute horror.
His own smile vanished almost as quickly. "What…what's wrong? Did I say something to offend-"
She didn't stay where she was. Almost frantic and terrified, she quickly gathered up everything she had as fast as she could, and as soon as it was done she wheeled around without even bowing or excusing herself from the king's presence and ran back into the castle.
Samuel was left standing there at a loss for words, still holding the book.
His own mood was dour most of the rest of that day. He didn't see the young woman again. She locked herself in her room, and though the servants threatened to force their way in late in the day he sternly told them not to molest her. He himself finally went to the door and knocked on it, but received no response. He apologized again for offending her in any way, but that also went unanswered. Finally he withdrew, and was left to brood the rest of the afternoon.
When supper came, she did emerge. She curtsied gracefully to him, and while she couldn't speak she seemed to be trying to apologize for earlier. Nevertheless, her look was more melancholy than before all through supper. She ate so quietly that one would hardly notice she was there, and she had very little to drink besides. It was just as well. Keeping herself as invisible as possible kept her from arousing any more of his mother's coldness, and she, on her part, seemed to have made a point to pretend she wasn't even there such that it worked out.
She tried to excuse herself again after supper, but soon after letting her leave the dining room he went after her and caught up to her in the hallway.
"My lady, I offer once again a thousand apologies for the garden. I meant in no way to offend you. I had no idea the play would not be to your liking."
She continued to have the melancholy look, but she shook her head at him.
"In that case…it's my behavior that offended you. I am even more repentant of that."
Again she shook her head, more insistently this time. Seeing her being insistent gave him a measure of relief.
"Then…I have offended you in some way I am not aware of. I wish I knew what so I could vow not to do it again, but I will try harder in the future. Are you angry with me?"
She shook her head more firmly.
He felt even more relief. "Then I haven't caused you trouble bringing you here as my guest or inviting you to supper?"
She paused a little, but then another head shake.
He exhaled. "I am eternally grateful for that. In the future, I'll make sure your work is undisturbed. Or…" He almost felt nervous about this next part, but the thing he regretted the most about today was losing a chance to be next to her. He had to have one back. "…perhaps I could read the poetry aloud to you instead?"
Another pause, one that left him rather anxious, but in the end she nodded.
"And I am grateful beyond eternity for that. Thank you so much, my good, fair wood sprite."
In spite of her melancholy look, she smirked ever so slightly on hearing that name again. She had gone to bed since then but Samuel felt most of his thoughts from earlier return.
They were dwelling on him more heavily than ever as evening came, and when he and Diego retired to the terrace. They had their usual decanter of wine between them, but he hardly sipped his own when he went to recline on his cushioned chair. He simply stared out over the garden, swirling it a little in his hands. What little conversation Diego made was disinterestedly responded to before both men went silent. The moon and stars came out, the torches were lit, and all the sounds of the night began to fill the air as the two continued to sit there. And all the while, Samuel continued to think about the entire day and yesterday. He thought of his fortune on finding the beautiful young woman, the conversation at the morning meal, and each of her reactions she had given him that day…both good and bad.
A distant wolf howled as the evening wore on. Diego finished drinking his second glass and set it on the table, turning to Samuel. His own first glass was scarcely touched. He stared at him a moment, then looked back out to the garden. A moment later he blinked, as if wondering if he was seeing something from the wine. He leaned up more in his seat and stared out.
"Well, imagine that."
Samuel looked up idly. "Hmm?"
"On the pond."
The king looked that way. It took him a moment to see what Diego was talking about. The trees around it enclosed most of it, after all, and in the darkness it was hard to see. However, he just managed to make out something swimming on the surface. At first, he took it for a large, white goose, but it didn't take long for him to realize it was far larger than that, and the neck more sinuous and the head more elongated.
"A swan," Diego finally stated. "I never thought I'd see the like this far south. How on Earth did it fly in?"
Samuel didn't answer. He looked on at the bird, seeing it only shaking its head a moment before swimming back behind the trees and out of sight. He stared at where it had been, still seeing it in his mind's eye. More thoughts ran through his head; more vividly and insistently this time. He suddenly looked far more alert than he had a moment ago.
"Diego?"
"Yes, milord?"
"Do you believe in signs from God?"
He turned to him. Samuel was still staring forward, however. "What sort of signs?"
"Directions. Little impossibilities here and there. Things that let you know you're making the right decision. My mother believes in them. She looks for them all the time. That crucifix she keeps? She claims it was given to her by an old woman from the country the day she found she was pregnant with me. She's kept it ever since. She says it was a sign that I'd grow up safe. Do you think she was right?"
He shrugged. "I suppose so. Do you?"
"I don't think I completely did until this evening. Now, however…"
He trailed off. Suddenly, he took a sip of his own wine, then set it on the table and turned to Diego.
"Do you know…a thought occurs to me. Nobility goes about choosing a wife the wrong way. Do you know who they marry? Other noblewomen. Women who have their own designs. Who have loyalties to their father and mother rather than to the city where they are going. Who see the entire thing as just a political contract. I ask myself how can such a marriage be happy? All the two ever think about is the future of the state. Never of each other. Never treating such a thing as sanctimonious and blessed as marriage as something other than a daily prayer. It would be like being married to yourself. Not just yourself, but the part of yourself that you have to put on for everyone else. Such fakeness. Such falseness."
His friend gave him a strange look. "What are you saying?"
"Do you believe in love at first sight?"
"What?"
"Do you believe in it? Certainly it may not be common, but it must be. All true couples are blessed by Our Lord and He knows all before it ever comes to be. So truly there must be such a thing as love at first sight? Enough to forge a happy marriage…a happy life even."
Diego stared at him a moment longer, but in the midst of all of this talk he slowly began to realize what he was saying. His eyes widened as he began to look uneasy.
"My lord... You aren't honestly thinking of…?"
Samuel said no more. He began to rise from his chair. "I need to speak to Lorenzo before it gets too late."
"My lord, may I speak freely with all honesty within my heart? Will you not hold my words against me?"
"You may."
Lorenzo took in a deep breath as he frowned. "I believe you have totally taken leave of your senses and sensibility. You speak as if you had gone mad."
Samuel, Diego, and Lorenzo were now gathered in the king's own study. Many in the castle were already turning in, but he had the room lit up for this meeting. A book of the city-state's law was currently open. He had been perusing it while the servants had fetched Lorenzo from his own preparations for bed to come and see him immediately. He had been kind enough to pour him some tea but he had left it untouched. Diego was seated to one side, practically sweating at everything he had heard. Lorenzo was seated across from Samuel, who was standing himself, composed and yet now looking at him rather sternly.
The king immediately reached out and tapped the page. "I am perfectly within my legal rights. As King of Beneserta, there is nothing preventing me from choosing whoever I wish for a wife. That includes any commoner who I find suitable."
"My lord," Lorenzo's voice lowered, "you only met this girl yesterday."
"A completely moot point. As a noble, I am expected to meet other noblewomen at one occasion and then immediately pronounce my verdict as to whether or not I intend to make one my wife. I can mention three noblemen off the top of my head who knew their own wives for an even shorter length of time before proposing their engagement."
"Precisely. Noblewomen. Women who can have their lineage, upbringing, and decorum well-spoken for and provided upon request before even introducing them at a banquet. In more common terms, a full disclosure on what the 'buyer is about to purchase'. This girl," his voice turned harsher, "is a wild, forest-dwelling hermit who we know absolutely nothing about. She could be diseased…out of her mind…a savage…"
"She's no savage and both you and Diego know that," he flatly retorted. "You saw the way she conducted herself at both meals today. She knows more about manners and propriety than I do."
"And that only makes her more concerning!" Lorenzo spoke up so loud that he quickly reined himself in before he woke anyone. "A woman like that living in filth and squalor, poor and penniless, uneducated…"
"I told you she could read."
He sighed and rubbed his brow. "My lord, you also said she couldn't write. It is not possible for a person to be able to read and not so much as copy words out of a book. Obviously, she is fully illiterate. She only brought that book out to pretend to read and imitate a noblewoman, just like she's been doing since she arrived. There is nothing about that woman but mysterious and unnatural behavior. Ill behavior at that, most likely. Any man can see it."
"I don't see it."
Lorenzo leveled his eyes on him. "Any man not blinded by base, animalistic infatuation."
Samuel frowned at that. "I told you to speak honestly, Lorenzo. I pray, don't stop there. Say what you really think. 'Sinful lust', is that it?"
"I did not say that, but what else am I supposed to conclude, my lord? When you say such mad things? When you make such intolerable and crazed proposals?"
"My lord," Diego cut in, "I can tell you're attracted to this girl. Everyone sees it. But it's only a youthful love. It's only the first sparks you see when you're a young man. You see the first lovely creature that catches your eye and you want it. But as you sit on it and think on it, you realize there's nothing to it. The next pretty girl that comes along you'll crave even more than her."
This truly did make the king frown. "I have seen many pretty girls and lovely creatures ever since my boyhood. All of those women who are now happily married that my mother continuously laments I did not choose…I saw each one of them in their prime I felt nothing. Neither have any of the ruddy girls of the country or the merchant's daughters in the streets caught my eye, and neither have any of those who visited from other countries, nor even those in picture books. Her, Diego. It has only ever been for her. And the more I think on it, the hotter it burns inside of me."
Diego slumped hopelessly at that. He had, after all, tried in vain already to dissuade him.
"You cannot make some savage the queen of Beneserta," Lorenzo stated more firmly. "She'll be poison to this country. She'll ruin it and its people. What does some pauper in an old hut know about governing?"
"It will be terribly difficult for someone who can neither speak nor write to issue unjust and oppressive edicts, wouldn't you think?" Samuel simply responded.
"Think of the blow to your name and family. Being tied to a dirty, mute peasant. No kingdom will ever look on you the same way again. They'll claim you took a harlot for a wife simply to sate your carnal pleasures."
"Yet no one would think anything of me taking a wife simply to have an heir? I wouldn't be the first man, or noble, in history who was accused of taking a wife simply to sate their desires. Some of them were even respected regardless."
"Then think of your own welfare, my lord," his voice grew more insistent. "I implore you."
He frowned. "You think she's dangerous? You think she could somehow throttle me in my sleep? Or henpeck me into an early grave when she can't even speak?"
"And if she was to poison you? She needs neither wit nor power for that."
"Now who is sounding mad?" his voice nearly grew angry. "You truly think that she spent her entire time in that forest for years, ran and hid up a tree when she heard a nobleman approach, waited for him to search for her and find her, worked her charm with the intention of him bringing her back and marrying her, all so that he could kill him and have his kingdom to herself? It was only due to a spot of chance I was even in that forest. And from what I've been hearing, it seems most other noblemen would have left her on the spot without a second thought. Hardly a well thought out plan."
Lorenzo drew himself up in his seat, grimacing a little as he folded his hands in front of him. His voice lowered once again.
"My lord, you say you have been thinking this over. I do not suppose in any of your thoughts you have paused to consider how unusual your attraction is?"
He felt his temper rise a bit more. "Unusual in what way, Lorenzo? Am I not allowed to admire a lovely lady now?"
"Of course not, my lord. But you and I both know full well you have shown little interest in marriage before now. There were many beautiful ladies in the castle over the past ten years and none of them have caught your fancy."
"Is this your personal tastes speaking up, Lorenzo? Or would you deny it when I claim that this one surpassed them all?"
Lorenzo pursed his lips. "I will concede that she is fairer than the others, but even so you've never shown this much interest before. Not even an inkling of it. And to be suddenly and completely smitten with a woman after only two days, enough to wish to make her your wife…does not anything about that seem strange to you, my lord? Even abnormal?"
Samuel crossed his arms and set his jaw. "I'm not sure what you mean, Lorenzo, but I pray you get to it straight off. I'm growing upset with this line of talk."
The old man looked a bit more troubled as he clasped his hands together. His voice lowered almost to a whisper now. "What I mean to say, sire, is that the woods in these parts of the country generate a large number of local myths and superstition. Some with more kernels of truth in them than others. I've spent my life accumulating them and paying heed to them. There are many stories of forest dwelling women…some considered practically witches, others devils in human guise…ones who beguile men and force them to take them home with them-"
Samuel cut him off with rolling his eyes and putting his hand against his brow. "I cannot believe I'm hearing this. You're honestly trying to scare me from this marriage with ghost stories."
"I truly can't see any other reason for your change in behavior, my lord," he spoke more loudly.
He snapped his head back at him angrily. "Perhaps because I'm in love?"
"Look at her, my lord. Look at where and how she was living. And that gruesome craft she's always about. Continuously reaching for those noxious weeds and hurting herself to be weaving those ridiculous garments. I've heard stories of witches before that weave articles of clothing to curse those they put them on. How do you know that she's not-"
"She wore a crucifix around her neck!" he cut off. His voice was growing angrier and louder, and there was a reason for that. The mention of the garments had struck a chord in him. He had heard those stories as well, after all. He was more well-versed with the fables than Lorenzo was. And when he heard him mention her strange fancy, parts of his resolve, which had seemed so fiery and firm until now, began to cool slightly. He wouldn't let that happen. "What witch would do that?"
"Those nails could have been anything. A pagan symbol, for all we know. Even the ancient Egyptians wore the ankh and we would hardly mistake that for a cross…"
"I've heard enough," he flatly stated, his voice firming up again. "I've made my decision. I asked you in here not to try and dissuade me from it but to inform me if there is any legal reason I would be prohibited. As there is not, then my mind is set."
"My lord…please," Lorenzo looked at him imploringly, leaning forward and putting his hands on the arm rests to rise. "I have only ever sought the welfare of your family, from your father to your mother to you. I beg of you to reconsider this. For your own sake."
His look was nearly desperate, practically pleading with him. Even Samuel couldn't pretend that the old man didn't think he was doing the right thing in trying to talk him out of this. However, he refused to see it that way, and set his own face like flint. "As I have said, I have made my decision."
"Sire…"
"If you cannot live with it, Lorenzo, then I can dismiss you from service, if you prefer."
Both Diego and Lorenzo gave a start at that. The old man looked almost hurt. Samuel regretted those words as soon as he had spoken them. As much as he annoyed him, he had known him his whole life. He was practically an uncle to him, and there were times when he valued his council above all else. He would never truly want him gone. And yet, he wouldn't abide him trying to talk him out of this any longer. If he let him be, he knew he would never stop.
Standing there, he realized that his love for this woman was already having the effect that Lorenzo and Diego no doubt feared. It was making him choose between her and them, and right now he was choosing her. It wore away a bit more at his resolve, making him second guess himself again…but he thought of the swan and everything that had gone through his mind, and in the end he steeled himself.
Lorenzo sank back into his chair, his eyes actually sad, but also resigned. He let out a long sigh. "Since you are not acting like yourself, I would hardly be a good advisor if I abandoned you now. I have loyalty to you and your family, even when you're mired in your own folly. Therefore…if that is your wish, then so be it."
He nodded back. With that settled, he calmed once again.
The old man sighed once more. "When do you plan to propose to this…woman?"
"Tomorrow afternoon. I'll need to start making preparations for the ceremony and feast the same day."
"And when do you plan to inform the queen mother of your intent? Before or after the proposal? Either way, I cannot imagine she'll be too receptive of it."
Samuel stood there a moment. He looked visibly uncomfortable for the first time. He reached out and planted his hand on the back of another chair and bowed his head momentarily.
"In that case, I'm not sure the queen mother needs to know."
Both men looked more surprised than ever.
"She wanted leave to visit the bishop this morning with our increased contribution. I think I will go ahead and give her leave to do so first thing tomorrow morning so she can be on her way as soon as possible."
"My lord," Diego spoke up, now rather uncomfortable-sounding. "you're not saying you really want to get married to this girl without even letting the queen know about it until after you have been declared husband and wife, are you?"
Samuel frowned, although this time it was from regret rather than anger or irritation.
"I either omit my mother from my holy matrimony or I watch her refuse to even attend and pronounce a curse over me on the day of the event, Diego."
Getting Eleonora to leave was a bit harder than Samuel anticipated. She seemed to be loathe to quit the castle so long as the girl was present, not wanting to leave him alone with her. However, he had consented to a larger contribution than he had initially quoted, and she had known the bishop since she was a child. She would never turn down a chance to see him, and it had been over a year. By now, Samuel realized he had to not look eager in any way for her to depart and so he had the girl informed that an event of great importance had prohibited the normal meal service and her own meal would be delivered to her room for today. As a result, the queen thought she had been disinvited, something that put her more at ease. By noon, she had been persuaded to depart, and after packing things for a week's journey and assembling Samuel's contribution, her escort departed.
Not thirty minutes after she was gone, he came to the young woman's room. After dismissing everyone else, he stepped into the room, dropped to one knee in front of the chair where she was doing her sewing, and officially proposed.
Her reaction was understandable.
Her mouth dropped and her eyes widened in disbelief. The sewing needle and petals she had been working on dropped from her grip all together. She looked at him as if she was unsure of what she had just heard. But when he reassured her that he was in earnest, she became completely at a loss. She sat there still and gazing about absent-mindedly, unable to think of what to do next, much less what to make of this proposal.
"I understand this is more than a little sudden, but I've never been so certain of anything in my entire life," he quickly added. "Please don't think that I plan to turn you into a glorified Biblical concubine. I don't care about your background or your muteness. You'll still be the queen of Beneserta, and I will be true to you in good times and bad in sickness and health. I swear I will love and honor you all the days of my life, and I will never long for another as long as I live. I know you've known me so shortly you may not believe that, but I will gladly bring in anyone in the entire castle and they'll attest that I have always been true whenever I have sworn something. Everything in this castle will be yours. Everything I have will be yours, including my heart."
She stared at him as he said these things, still looking at a loss. She did listen, however. Her bewilderment gradually gave way to more reluctance and hesitation. She stared down in her lap as her mouth shut again.
He slowly and gently extended his own hand into her lap at that, reaching his fingers out for hers. On seeing it, she allowed him do to so, and as soon as he had her hand he clasped it and held it in his, causing her to look up.
"As king of Beneserta, I am within my rights to marry whom I wish if there is no guardian of the maiden. Right now, however, I consider it no greater misdeed than to cause you any further unhappiness. If there is anyone else in your life, any prior engagement, or any obligation or betrothal you might already have…anything at all that you know could and would bring you more happiness than a life with me…I will withdraw my proposal and leave you only with my blessing for your peace. Yet if it is only your current task, no matter what it may be, I would gladly have every stinging nettle in the entire province planted in my garden if it would mean that you could remain here. And if there is nothing else, I beg of you, my lady, to please consider me. I am already of the mind where I will never get cheer for music or playwrights ever again if you leave me, though that is a cross I am reluctantly willing to bear if it will leave you satisfied, but can you possibly envision a better and happier life for yourself not remaining here?"
She looked down to her lap again, still hesitant. She spotted her hand being clasped by his own. Though her fingers were tender, he was gentle and didn't squeeze or cause any discomfort. Her own thumb shifted and moved along the edge of his hand, as if studying it or considering it. She looked back up soon after, and their eyes met.
For a long time she stared right back at him. He wasn't sure what she was looking for, so instead he looked at her with what he hoped was a reflection of his heartfelt sincerity and devotion. He had meant every word he had spoken. He didn't know if it was enough, but he prayed that it would be. He wanted to tell her more. He wanted to show her how devoted he would be as a husband and how committed he would be to their future life together. He wanted to let her know how there would never be another woman as long as he lived like her. He wanted her to make a request of him, any request in the world, to profess his love and prove it. Most of all, he wanted her to feel at least some measure of the affection that her felt for her. To not know that this was all in vain.
And as she kept staring, her look softened further. It eased as it stared deeply in his eyes, and a more contented and peaceful expression came over her. The rest of her body eased where she was sitting, and she reached out her other hand toward his cheek. Samuel nearly trembled when she touched it and slowly ran her hand along it. She seemed to ease even more at that. A small, faint smile briefly appeared on her lips.
It faded soon after, and she bowed her head and closed her eyes again.
A moment later, she gave just the smallest nod.
Samuel felt his heart surge. He almost felt dizzy. He couldn't believe it at first, and he held her hand a bit more strongly. "Do…do you mean it…?"
She kept her eyes closed, but nodded a bit more firmly.
"You accept my proposal?" The joy on his voice was nearly breaking. Even on his knees, he felt moments from shooting upright.
She held for a few seconds this time, but then her eyes opened and she looked up. The small smile was back as she nodded again.
The king felt like he was having a dream…the most wonderful dream that he would gladly bid farewell forever to the waking world. He felt like he was flying. His heart surged so strongly he swore he could almost feel it in his ribs. He didn't think it was possible to feel so happy. Immediately, he took up the young woman's hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it deeply.
"Thank you. Thank you so much, my lady…" he managed to speak before kissing it again. "You've made me the happiest man in the world. I swear I'll do all in my power to make you the happiest woman. I…" he swallowed. He felt his throat tightening and his eyes burning. He couldn't remember the last time he had been moved to tears. "I…I…"
Swallowing again, and feeling two tears running down his cheeks, he stopped for a moment longer. Long enough to reach into the side of his own vestments, into his pocket, and to come out with a golden ring in his fingers; emblazoned with the standard of his own city-state. He quickly maneuvered it to be between his thumb and forefinger plus index finger, and adjusted his other hand to hold hers out. In response, she spread out her fingers.
He looked up momentarily, eyes still burning. He saw she was watching her hand now and breathing rapidly, her own face practically flushed. He felt himself smile more at that. There they were, two confused people venturing into something together that they weren't entirely sure of, but both pressing on for the sake of happiness. He looked back down to her hand and, soon after, slipped the golden engagement ring on her finger.
He swallowed and inhaled again before he finally got it out. "I…I love you. I've loved you since the moment I first laid eyes on you. I promise, now and forever, I'll always love you no matter what comes."
She still seemed uncertain, but also strengthened by that. She nodded again, smiling a little more.
He continued to clasp her hand a few seconds more before he rose, beginning to draw her up. His enthusiasm grew again. "Well…we can't spend all afternoon sitting around in here. There's a lot to do in the next few days."
To be continued...
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yeah...this chapter was the most awkward for me to write, but...that's how the fairy tale went. I wasn't necessarily trying to portray that Samuel was doing the right thing but rather a young, impulsive decision. Also, I wanted there to be at least some kind of mutual consent between the two of them...as opposed to the story version where the king was pretty much: "get over here, marry me, and start bearing my children this instant, peasant" :P