A Conspiracy of Princes, Page 3

  But even this illusory peace was suddenly cut through: dogs began barking at the edge of the garden. Hedd was immediately alert, racing off toward the melee. Hal too leaped upright, dagger drawn, swiftly joining his comrades who had come out to investigate.

  Jared rose to his feet, his heart pumping anew. What fresh disaster did the barking announce? As the dogs’ warning fell away, Jared made out voices, initially raised, but then softer—in the midst of the curt voices of Hal and his guards was that of a girl. Jared nodded to himself. Even before Hal brought her over to him, he knew exactly who it was.

  “Asta Peck!” Jared declared, smiling. He noted that close upon Asta’s heels was Hedd. The wolfhound had taken the same instant liking to the Physician’s apprentice that the Prince had.

  Asta returned his smile, though she seemed embarrassed at the commotion her arrival in the palace gardens had provoked. The guards were by now moving away, back to the palace, and she cast them a pained glance. “I’m sorry,” she said, to both Jared and Hal. “I should have thought before I wandered up here at this hour.”

  Jared shook his head, grateful to see the one person in his immediate sphere he thought of as a true friend. “What brings you up here at this time of night?”

  “I couldn’t sleep,” she said. “And, Your Highness, somehow I knew that you were feeling the same. I even had an image of you, sitting right here on this bench. How strange…”

  “It’s a pity you didn’t picture the guards and the dogs while you were at it,” Hal cut in. “Your jugular was moments away from becoming intimately acquainted with the wrong end of my dagger.”

  “I think you’ve made your point,” Jared told Hal. “Asta, since you’ve made it through the barricades, won’t you join Hedd and me on a walk around the gardens? Hal, perhaps you will grant us as much privacy as you feel prudent, and treat yourself to another cigarette?”

  Hal nodded. “Of course, Your Highness.”

  Asta waited until the Bodyguard was out of earshot. “All right,” she said. “Uncle Elias told me about the Paddenburg Ultimatum but then clammed up, as per usual. What’s going on? How are you feeling about all this? What happens next?”

  Jared couldn’t help but smile at the volley of questions. “Where do I begin?”

  “Begin at the beginning, Uncle Elias would say.” Asta lifted her right hand. “It’s a sizable garden you have here, Prince Jared. A walk around its perimeter should give us ample opportunity to tackle this new situation from multiple angles.”

  Jared nodded, feeling another flood of relief that she had, miraculously, come to find him. He was half tempted to offer her his arm, but something held him back from making such a gesture of intimacy. He felt an easy closeness to Asta, bordering on something more, but, with everything that was going on, now was hardly the time to introduce another complication.

  Thoughts turning in his head, Jared lingered on the spot as Asta began walking ahead. Realizing that she had left him behind, she turned and looked back at him. “Is there a problem?” she asked.

  “No.” Jared shook his head and strode out, accompanied by Hedd, to make good the distance between them.

  “So what do you think?” Jared asked, as he finished recounting his version of the meeting of the Twelve.

  Asta’s bright eyes met his. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? You should go on this mission yourself.”

  Her words sent a shiver up his spine. “So you agree, then? I should go because I am the Prince?”

  She shook her head. “No, you should go because you want to go. The fact that you are the Prince is neither here nor there… except that it enables you to call the shots!”

  Jared’s brow furrowed. Everything seemed so uncomplicated to her. He wished he could see things with the same level of clarity.

  “Look,” she said. “You have talked, very eloquently, about feeling in control, and then suddenly feeling that control is being wrested from you—whether by Axel or by your mother or even by Emelie, with her acid tongue! But, in reality, you have ultimate control here. It’s only when you forget that that you allow others to step in and undermine you. Even then, I’m not sure they do so intentionally. They may simply be trying to help—”

  Something in Asta’s words struck Jared to his core. “You think I hesitate too much,” he said. “Don’t you?”

  “Actually, no.” She shook her head sharply. “I completely understand why you need to take a moment to process what is going on and consider how you should respond. You want to make the right decisions. You’re new to this, but even if you weren’t, you have been faced—since that day when we all learned of Prince Anders’s assassination—with a sustained series of challenges and pressure. We hoped there might be some brief respite, but now the stakes have only increased. Truly, it’s as if you are being tested by some higher power, like in an old folktale or in one of Father Simeon’s parables.”

  He nodded. Her words resonated with him, not only in his head but in his heart and gut. Just hearing Asta’s acknowledgment of what he was contending with brought some relief.

  “All I’m saying,” she continued, “is that when you do hesitate, for very valid reasons, you allow others to swoop in and seize control. And I think that rocks your confidence, perhaps more than it should. You start to question whether you really are the one who holds the reins of power, whether you should be the one holding the reins. But those are not questions you need to ask. You are Prince of All Archenfield. Your brother chose you, with—if I can speak plainly—uncharacteristic wisdom, for the role. And you have already proved to all of us that you are more than worthy of the job.”

  “I have?”

  She paused. “Look within yourself for the answer. You might be surprised and pleased with what you find.”

  Finding himself blushing, Jared shook his head. “How did you get to be so wise, Asta Peck?” he asked, as he reached for Hedd’s chin once more.

  She shrugged. “I think I must have been cursed at an early age.”

  “Why cursed, rather than blessed?” he asked curiously.

  “Because I ask too many questions. You know that. I can’t help it. My brain just keeps turning things over and over, and before I know it, I’m in all kinds of—”

  “Deep water?” he suggested, with a grin—thinking of her decision to jump into the freezing river to test her theories regarding Silva’s death.

  “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

  “Not until you do something even more spectacular. Which, personally, I’m confident you will.”

  She nodded. “It’s a distinct possibility.”

  Jared fell silent for a moment, and then he spoke: “If I do go on this mission, Asta, would you come with me?” His eyes met hers.

  For the first time, Asta’s confidence seemed to waver. She glanced up, as if searching for her answer in the constellations above. “I’m not sure what use I’d be.”

  “You would keep me sane,” he told her. “You have a remarkable knack for that. You are my antidote to everyone else in court.”

  Her brow furrowed. “They’re not all against you, you know.”

  “Oh, I know…”

  “Do you? Really?” She looked at him keenly. “You have to give them time to adjust, Jared. They are so used to your brother. They’re unsettled too—not by you, but by these significant shifts in circumstance. The spinning of the wheel of fate…”

  He smiled.

  “Did I say something amusing?” Asta inquired.

  He shook his head.

  “What then?”

  “You called me Jared.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “It is your name.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Oh, I see!” Asta looked at him, startled.

  “In the days of my ancestors, they’d lock you up in the Dungeons for a week for a slip like that.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to offend—”

  “I’m only teasing you,” he said, reach
ing out for her hand. “Asta, I like it when you call me by my name.” He squeezed her hand. “It reminds me that there is more to me than my title.”

  “There is much more to you,” she agreed. She could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks at his touch. “I think we are all just beginning to understand how much more to you there is.”

  Her words, her unswerving belief in him, touched Jared deeply. He stood there, in the midst of the palace gardens, holding her hand, reluctant to let it go. Only a hairbreadth separated them. If he dared to kiss her, he was fairly sure she would not recoil. Her eyes gazed into his for what felt like an eternity. He could picture himself leaning just a fraction closer…

  “I should go,” he said, letting go of her hand. “I need to think all this through,” he blustered. “Thank you, Asta. Thank you for coming to find me and for your advice. As usual, you have helped me to see things with much greater clarity.”

  A stray gust of wind ruffled her flame-colored hair, and she lifted a hand to brush the strands away from her eyes. She glanced over his shoulder in the direction of Hal, then turned back toward him. “You are much better at this than you realize,” she assured him.

  Did she mean being the Prince, or something more personal? Before he could ask, she had given him a nonchalant salute and turned away to navigate her way back to her home in the Village of the Twelve.

  “I’m depending on you to call off the dogs,” she called back to him, over her shoulder.

  “Depend on it,” he said. “It’s the very least I can do for you.”

  FOUR

  The Queen’s Quarters, the Palace, Archenfield

  THE FIRST OF QUEEN ELIN’S ROOMS—DESIGNATED as her office and parlor—was host to a flurry of activity, even at this late hour. Several large packing cases lay open on the floor. Two of the Queen’s handmaids were carefully folding clothes and laying them in the open cases. Another had been tasked with packing the Queen’s jewels in a smaller trunk. Meanwhile, two more of the Queen’s servants moved busily back and forth between this room and those beyond, ferrying out more clothes, jewelry and other items for Elin’s imminent departure. Jared could hear his mother’s sharp voice in the other chamber, issuing a stream of commands.

  Weaving his way between the harried maids, he entered the second of his mother’s rooms. There, he found Elin, sitting on a chaise, turning over in her hands a jeweled casket. At her feet, arrayed on the fine carpet, was an assemblage of treasures.

  “Sidse!” Elin summoned back one of her maids and placed the casket into her hands. “Yes, we will take this, but it needs a good polish.”

  “Very good, Your Majesty!” The maid nodded to the Queen and took the casket off to be cleaned.

  “You’re still up, then, Mother?” Jared said.

  “Very observant, my darling,” Elin said, her eyes remaining on the diverse display of gold, silver and jewel-encrusted objects laid out before her. “Yes, I am still up. There is so much to get organized ahead of my trip.”

  “You look like you are getting ready to flee the country,” Jared observed, kneeling down to retrieve an intricate jade carving of a ship. Its five green sails were as thin and delicate as spring leaves, its rigging no thicker than the threads of a spider’s web.

  “You can have that if you like,” she said. “It was a gift from the Prince of Baltiska—not Prince Ciprian, obviously, but his father, I seem to recall.” She glanced across, her mouth twisted into a tight smile. “I can’t very well regift him his father’s heirloom and expect to secure an alliance on that basis, can I?”

  Jared set the carving back down carefully and, rising to his feet, pulled across a chair to sit directly opposite his mother. “So this is your plan, is it?” he inquired. “To travel out with a caravan of treasures to bribe and barter your way into alliances?”

  “That’s something of an oversimplification.” Elin ran her fingers meditatively along the fine silk covering of her chaise. “One doesn’t, on the whole, bribe one’s fellow royals, though Prince Rohan loves anything a touch flashy—that gold pineapple thingy over there, for instance, is very much to his taste—or lack thereof.” She smiled. “But no, Jared, these gifts are only to oil the wheels. They will not form part of the central negotiations.”

  “I see,” Jared said, keeping his tone as level as possible. “And how many horses and how big an entourage are you planning to take on this journey of yours, in order to transport all these treasures and your not-insubstantial wardrobe?”

  Elin looked at him, unmoved. “I’ll leave Axel to work out the logistics, my sweet. My job is simply to pack the bare essentials for my trip.”

  Jared couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t only his mother’s notion of the “bare essentials,” but also the thought of the many maids currently hard at work cleaning, sorting and packing while Elin assessed the worth of her precious treasures.

  “I see you find this amusing,” Elin observed, reaching down and scooping up an intricately painted egg. She held the fragile ornament up to the light. “It’s no more than a trinket, really, is it? No, I think we can certainly categorize this as Not Wanted on the Voyage.”

  Jared nodded, imagining how best to break his news to her: Actually, Mother—the thing Not Wanted on the Voyage is you… Yes, because that would go down very well.

  She rolled the egg thoughtfully between the blossom-pale palms of her hands. “Darling, I don’t mean to be rude—it is always a delight to receive a visit from you.” She leaned forward, her dark eyebrows raised. “But I am, in point of fact, rather busy.”

  He smiled pleasantly at his mother. “I appreciate that. What I have to say will take only a few moments of your time.”

  “You’re going on the mission yourself?” Axel exclaimed, leaning back in his chair.

  “That’s right,” Jared said, standing before the Captain of the Guard’s desk in the center of his office.

  “Dare I inquire if Queen Elin has been informed of this change in plans?”

  Jared nodded. “I told her myself, on my way here to see you.”

  Axel arched an eyebrow. “And how, pray, did she take the news?”

  Jared grimaced. “Let’s just say it’s probably a good thing that I shall shortly be out of her immediate range for a few days.”

  “Oh, Jared,” Axel said, light dancing in his eyes. “You haven’t forgotten, have you, that it’s your coronation tomorrow? It really would be most… unfortunate if Queen Elin decided to boycott such an important event.”

  “She’ll be there,” Jared assured him. “However angry she is with me now—and the word ‘incandescent’ springs to mind—she won’t be able to keep away. She’ll be there, front and center, to see you place the crown on my head.”

  Axel’s eyes met his. “I cannot tell you how much I am looking forward to it. With all that’s happened, and all there is to come, we need moments like these. I wonder who it was who established the tradition that the Edling places the crown on the Prince’s head?”

  Jared shrugged. They both knew well enough that Axel would far rather the crown was placed on his own head. Jared couldn’t help but wonder if, in the brief time during which Axel would have the crown in his possession before the ceremony, he would try it on for size. He shook his head. Of course he would. Blocking out the unwanted image, Jared reached into his pocket. “I’ve drawn up a list of who I have chosen to accompany me on my mission.” He passed the folded piece of parchment to Axel, who took it and unfolded it, setting the small sheet of creamy paper in the center of his vast wooden desk.

  HAL HARNESS

  KAI JAGGER

  “It’s not exactly a list, Jared! There are only two names here,” Axel observed, glancing up.

  Jared nodded. “Three of us will be quite sufficient. And only three horses.”

  “Is that even sufficient to carry all your necessities?”

  Prince Jared folded his arms. “In marked contrast to my mother, I’m not planning on riding out with the entire contents
of the royal vaults.”

  “With one horse apiece, you’ll be able to take little more than a change of clothes.”

  Jared nodded again. “That and a few basic provisions are all I intend to take. I do not plan to be away for very long. And I don’t see any necessity to employ the treasures of Archenfield to ‘oil the wheels’ of negotiation, as my mother so poetically puts it.”

  “You don’t?” Axel inquired, his voice guarded.

  Jared shook his head. “I will sit down, ruler to ruler, and make a plain argument for the alliances.”

  Axel gave a quick nod. “I see. Time to tear up convention and do things a little differently, eh?”

  “Something like that,” Jared agreed. “Though, of course, I would welcome your advice on where to go and what case to put before each court.” He smiled, enjoying the feeling of control. “I would be a fool not to draw on your experience.”

  For a moment, Axel said nothing and Jared wondered if his words had come out just a bit too sardonically. If so, he might have shot himself in the foot: the truth was, he genuinely did need and want the benefit of his cousin’s advice.

  Still saying nothing, Axel rose to his feet and crossed the room. Was he going to offer Jared a drink? The last thing he needed at this point in the proceedings was a stinging glass of aquavit. But no, Axel had come to a standstill before a map of Archenfield and its neighboring territories. He turned and glanced impatiently over his shoulder. Jared realized that he was supposed to go over and join him.

  “Here we are,” Axel said, planting his forefinger on the map so that it obliterated the E and N of ARCHENFIELD. His finger traveled downward. “And here’s the bastard Princedom of Paddenburg in the south, bordering our old friends in Woodlark.” His finger moved eastward to Francesca’s territory, resting there for a moment, then tapping the stretch of water that, for the most part, bordered the two lands.