The Unhandsome Prince Read online

  And every now and then she would catch a glimpse, in a darkened doorway or a half-shut window, of someone wearing a midnight blue cloak or perhaps a pointed cap, that bore the twin symbols of a star and a crescent moon. And she made a special effort to try to remember those places, knowing that in them was someone in the business of sorcery.

  Caroline rode by Hal, equally observant but subdued.

  She had long planned to travel to the city, but in fact had never really thought about what she would find when she got there. She had vaguely imagined someplace with a gleaming castle rising out of a cloud bank, rows of carriages pulled by white horses, and perhaps a few hat shops. Now, confronted by more people than she had ever seen in her life, she was feeling, if not overwhelmed, at least pretty much whelmed.

  Hal, for his part, was not oblivious to the feelings of his two companions—a courtly upbringing had taught him to recognize subtle nuances of tone and gesture—and so he decided to turn off the crowded main thoroughfares and onto the quieter streets of what was known as Gentry Place, along an avenue lined with upscale shops that catered to the nobility. But his good intentions fell awry, for though the streets were emptier, the shops themselves were even more intimidating than the people.

  Emily edged her horse over to Caroline’s, and whispered, “Glass windows.”

  “I see them,” Caroline whispered back. She was staring straight ahead, trying to be cool, trying to act uninterested in the objects that filled those windows. Bolts of cloth—silk and velvet and lace, displayed alongside elaborate dresses and bonnets. Glasses of crystal, bowls and dishes of porcelain thin as eggshells, silver cutlery. Chains of gold, rings set with emeralds, and long, long strings of pearls. Carved oak chests, inlaid with cherry and ebony, and finely tanned leather luggage. She reminded herself that she had seen all this before. Ripplebrook was not a poor town, after all. It was just that she had never seen so much of it all at once. Suddenly she felt Emily’s hand on her arm.

  “Caroline,” the girl whispered, “we’ll have to change clothes.”

  “Impossible.”

  “We can’t go to the castle like this. Look at them!” The younger girl gestured at two elegantly dressed women entering a shop.

  “They’re getting out of a carriage. We’re on horseback. If they were riding, they’d be dressed like we are.” Caroline was not at all sure this was true. But in her months of swamp work, she had plenty of time to think about what she would do when she finally found her prince and how she would act when presented in court. The two girls were wearing divided dresses, for riding. Once dismounted, Caroline thought they would look formal enough, at least for the first day. She was used to dressing less well than her friends, and they could learn the court customs as they went along. “Listen, the castle is the center of government. All sorts of people go in and out of there all day long. Right?”

  “I guess,” said Emily.

  “So nobody is going to pay much attention to us. As long as we’re with Hal, we’ll be okay. Anyway, there’s no place for us to change clothes. And if we did, we couldn’t ride in them anyway.”

  “Yes,” said Emily, a bit reluctantly. She was watching another set of finely dressed women get out of another carriage.

  “And we only have a few dresses, so we can’t use them up right away. We have to save them for the right occasions.”

  “Well, that’s true. Like if we meet the Queen.”

  Caroline laughed. “Even if we cling to Hal, I don’t think we’re likely to meet the Queen anytime soon.”

  Meanwhile, Hal had slowed his horse so they could catch up. He drifted alongside. “Everything all right?”

  “Fine,” said Caroline. “We were just talking about clothes.”

  “Sure,” said Hal, who was not certain that girls ever talked about anything else. He pointed to the left. “That’s the main gate where the public enters the palace. By public, I mean the lords, the lawyers, the people who work in the ministries. Not just anyone can walk in.” He pointed to the right. “We’ll go in through the private family entrance. There’s also a big family entrance where we take the carriages out and have a big processional and people line up to see us. But this is the entrance for day-to-day things.”

  Caroline had a momentary vision of herself riding out in a carriage pulled by a team of six white horses, her handsome prince at her side, waving to a throng of admirers. She pushed the thought aside. The time for dreaming was past. This was the real thing.

  They were approaching a high, wrought-iron fence, fronted by a double row of oak trees. A narrow guard-house was situated next to a narrow gate in the fence. A guard came out of the house and saluted the Prince, who waved to him. Rather glumly, Caroline thought. She expected a boy who had been away from home for so long to be a bit more eager to return. The guard unlocked the gate.

  Emily didn’t move. She was staring upward. Hal looked at her quizzically. Finally she said, “You live here?”

  Caroline could well understand the question. The palace towered over them, and it wasn’t just the hill it was built on. The place was huge. Great ramparts of black stone rose from behind the trees. Thick crenellated towers rose from every corner, festooned with banners. Behind the walls could be seen block after block of square buildings, with steeply pitched slate roofs. Everywhere jutted balconies and landings and windows and doors, through which steady streams of people could be seen leaving and entering. Several score of chimneys puffed light brown smoke. And from the tallest building extended a high flagpole, proudly displaying the colors and crest of Melinower.

  “Oh no,” said Hal. “I mean yes, but this isn’t all ours. The Council of Lords meets here and they have their chambers here also. You have to remember that Melinower Palace is the seat of the government. The royal apartments are only a part of this.”

  “That makes sense,” said Emily. “I knew there were big castles around, but I knew they weren’t that big.”

  “Well, it’s a palace, actually. A castle is a personal residence. We have a castle at our estate in Losshire. The palace is mostly offices. You’ll see when we get inside. It takes a while to learn your way around. Even our apartments take some getting used to.” By that time they were inside the gate, the horses’ shoes ringing on the paved road that led up to the palace walls. A man on horseback was coming toward them. As they reached him he turned his horse sideways, blocking their path, and pushed back his broad-brimmed hat.

  “Well,” he said. “If it isn’t little Hal. The prodigal son returns.”

  Hal’s expression was a study in controlled neutrality. “Hello, Kenny.”

  “I heard you got turned into a frog.”

  Hal shrugged.

  “Of course,” said Kenny. “Being small, soft-bodied, and wet behind the ears probably wasn’t that big of a change for you.”

  Hal sighed and threw back his arm in a gesture that encompassed the girls. “Let me introduce Miss Caroline and Miss Emily, of the village of Ripplebrook. Ladies, this is my brother, Prince Kenneth.”

  Kenny swept off his hat and gracefully bowed from the waist. “The pleasure is mine,” he said, his gaze particularly lingering on Caroline’s eyes.

  “Oh my,” said Caroline.

  It was a reaction common to girls her age. Indeed, Caroline might have been more restrained than most, for Prince Kenny dazzled many women. He was tall. Even when he was sitting on a horse you could see how tall he was. But not skinny. For a tall man he was amazingly broad-shouldered. His jaw was square and set off a carefully trimmed and pointed beard. His eyes were piercing blue, and when he swept off his hat a great mass of auburn locks fell to his shoulders.

  The hat itself, of brand-new felt, sported three iridescent feathers from a bird of paradise. Every ruffle on his collar had been carefully starched, and the gold buttons gleamed on his deep blue jacket. His shirt was studded with pearls. Every finger, including the thumbs, sported a gold ring, each with a different precious or semiprecious stone. He wore a gold-
and-emerald cross around his neck, and from his waist swung a sword in a jewel-encrusted scabbard.

  Caroline’s eyes were shining. This, she thought, was what a real prince looked like.

  But Kenny had already turned his attention back to Hal. “The old man knows you’re back. He wants to see you right away. I guess you’re going to explain to him how you screwed up yet another mission.”

  There was a short silence while Hal appeared to be considering several replies and then deciding against any of them. Finally he said, “I’ll see him.”

  “Yeah, well, stop by my room this evening. I’ve got some flies that need to be cleared out. I’ve been saving them in case you wanted a snack.” Kenny turned back to the two girls, bowed again, and pushed his hat back onto his head. “Good day, ladies.”

  “Good day, Your Highness,” both girls dutifully replied. Caroline looked after him with an awestruck gaze. When she finally turned away, she found that Prince Hal had continued up the drive. The girls hurried their horses after him. “Did you see him, did you see the way he looked at me?” Caroline whispered to Emily. “Isn’t he gorgeous?”

  “I think he’s a jerk,” said Emily. “Why is he so nasty to his brother?”

  “And did you see his clothes? Weren’t they fine?”

  Caroline went on. “Why doesn’t Hal dress like that?”

  They both looked ahead at Hal, who was simply dressed in plain duck cloth. “I think Hal looks just fine,” said Emily. “Lots of boys aren’t into clothes.”

  “Prince Kenny is so tall,” said Caroline. “He’s at least six feet tall. And his hair is beautiful.”

  “Hal’s hair is . . . lots of boys aren’t into clothes.”

  In the meantime Hal had reached the base of the high stone wall, dismounted, and handed his horse over to a stable hand, who led it away. More stable hands appeared to help the girls dismount. While they were getting used to this, servants appeared from various doors in the wall and took their packs from the horses, carrying them inside and disappearing. The girls looked anxiously after them, although neither wanted to be the first to express concern. Hal made a patting-down motion with his hand, and said, “They’re getting rooms for you. They’ll put your bags in them.”

  “Thank you,” said Caroline.

  Hal had drifted over to one of the doors, which looked the same as the other doors but apparently wasn’t, for guards stood on either side. He consulted with one of the guards, who opened the door for him. Immediately, a stout man in a formal black coat stepped outside, bowed to Hal, and said, “His Majesty the King would like to see you, sire.”

  “No doubt, Henri,” said Hal. “I’ll see him after lunch.”

  “His Majesty would like to see you right away, sire,” the formal man said firmly.

  “Food,” said Hal, equally firmly. “My guests have not eaten.”

  “His Majesty is most anxious . . .”

  “Then we’d best be served quickly. Because the sooner my friends can eat, Henri, the sooner I can see my father.”

  “Actually, I’m not all that hungry,” said Caroline.

  “I can wait, too,” said Emily.

  Henri favored them with a small smile. Hal shrugged and said, “Okay, then come with me.”

  They followed him through the small door, which turned out to lead to a wide hallway, whose walls were decorated with exquisite paintings and mirrors with carved and gilded wood frames. Around them, uniformed maids were dusting and polishing, and every time they came to a door someone was there to open it for them. Hal led them down one hallway and along the next, passing countless antechambers, where courtiers waited and consulted one another, while sitting on velvet-cushioned chairs.

  “You have a lot of servants,” said Caroline.

  “Too many. We could get by on half of these.”

  “Are we going to the throne room?”

  “Not quite. Dad isn’t hearing petitions now, so he won’t be sitting on the throne. He has a private office. That’s where I’m going.”

  “What should we do?”

  “Nothing. Wait here. I’ll just be gone a minute.”

  He stopped and consulted with several officers in charge of a small counting room. From here a messenger was dispatched to the Bear and Badger with payments for the sword and the previous night’s lodging. He then led Caroline and Emily into a small antechamber with a settee, just big enough for the two girls to sit side by side. Hal walked past them to a door set in the back of the chamber. The door was painted to match the decor of the rooms. It wasn’t exactly hidden or secret, but each girl had to admit that she would not have seen the door unless it opened. Hal waited until the girls were settled, then pushed the door and eased himself in.

  He was at one end of a long, narrow office, almost a corridor. He stood in gloom, while small windows at the other end cast a glow over his father’s desk. In between were tall bookcases that made the room even gloomier. The intended effect was that a visitor would walk deeper and deeper into darkness, then emerge to find the King bathed in mystical light. Hal always thought it was kind of a dumb trick. He wondered if any of the lords and nobles who visited his father were really impressed by this stuff, and was tempted to knock some books off the shelves as he passed, just to destroy the somber atmosphere.

  He pushed the thought away as being childish and approached his father’s desk. The King, sunlight reflecting off his gray head, dressed in a royal blue robe, dipped his quill in a pot of ink and continued to write. A short stack of books was at his elbow. Hal stood silently. He knew that making people stand at your desk was a way of showing your authority, but he also knew that the two chairs beside him had the legs slightly shortened, just enough so that visitors would find themselves looking up to the King. Hal wondered who first thought of these stupid ideas. He continued to stand. He was not in the mood for a fight, and experience had taught him that the only way to avoid one with his father was not to talk to him at all.

  Finally the King looked up and said, “Did you get it?”

  Hal took the bag containing the philosopher’s stone from his pocket and laid it on the desk.

  The King nodded. “Good.”

  That was it. “Good.” Not “Congratulations” or even “Thanks.” Not “Excellent work, my boy. Our problems are solved! The whole family is grateful to you.” Hal told himself he wasn’t disappointed. He hadn’t expected gratitude.

  He placed his hands on the desk, leaned over, and looked at the two books by his father’s side. One was a book of spells. The other was a book of alchemy. He looked at his father’s eyes. The King’s face was expressionless.

  So he knew. Knew that the philosopher’s stone was useless. That he had sent his youngest son out to steal an artifact that he couldn’t use, that Hal had spent seven weeks as a frog for nothing. Probably he had known for days. He might have learned right after sending Hal out. But Hal knew one thing for certain. There would be no apology, no expression of concern for the risk he had taken on this futile quest. Just “Good.”

  Hal straightened up, turned, and walked back to the door. He had his hand on the knob when he heard the King’s calm voice, “I haven’t dismissed you yet.”

  Hal hesitated with his hand on the knob. Then he released it and walked back down the narrow office. When he was halfway, he stopped before a bookshelf, as though considering a selection. Without looking at the King he put out an arm and swept half a dozen books onto the floor. Then he left the room.

  Now it so often happens that when people move from the country to the city, they may encounter an emotional letdown sometimes described as the “small frog in a big pond” phenomenon. To cite a familiar example—a young man may be the best student in his school, winning all the awards, taking all the honors, and developing a pretty high opinion of himself. He finds a patron to sponsor him to a university, arrives at class on his first day—and discovers that every single student in the room took top honors at his or her school.

  Or a yo
ung woman is named queen of the county faire. She travels to the city with the dream of turning her looks into her fortune, and finds the shops are full of girls who were queens of their county faires. A great beauty in her hometown, she is now totally unexceptional. For the larger the crowd, the more difficult it is for any one person to stand out.

  This did not happen to Caroline.

  Caroline was, to put it in the plainest terms possible, a major babe. She had bright blue eyes, long soft lashes, flawless skin, and blond hair that grew nearly to her waist without getting split ends. Her figure could not only turn a man’s head but unscrew it from his vertebrae. When she was happy, her smile was bright enough to guide ships at sea, and when she was sad, she had the undeniably charming habit of pouting rather than frowning. Pouting in a grown woman is cute only when she has very sexy lips to begin with; otherwise, it must be left to little girls. Caroline could pout up a storm.

  When Hal came back out the two girls were still sitting in the antechamber and giggling. He looked around to see what was funny.

  “All sorts of young gentlemen have been passing by and flirting with us,” explained Emily.

  “Ah,” said Hal. “Did you flirt back?”