The Faintest Ink (Watty Winner 2015)

Chapter Eleven

Lady Fae glanced at the clock on the mantle. It was the fourth time in the past ten minutes and there was still no sign of the girl. She realised she was tapping her fingers against the blotter and stopped herself, hiding the offending hand in her lap. She hated a fidget.

The young Countess snorted with laughter, the fat ringlets bobbing around her round cheeks.

"Is there something amusing?" said Lady Fae, lifting her pale eyebrows to reinforce the question.

"No, Duenna."

Usually Lady Fae would have rebuked the girl, but she wasn't feeling up to it. It wasn't like the Princess to be late. If anything, the girl had made a habit of coming in early. The smirk she would give Lady Fae as she entered the classroom with her arms heavy with books, was not would one which could be forgotten easily. She couldn't imagine the Princess doing anything as amateur as oversleeping. Under the desk she felt her leg bouncing with impatience.d

"You have received no message from Her Royal Highness this morning?" she asked, trying to keep her voice light.

"No, Duenna. There has been no message," said the Countess with an innocent smile.

Lady Fae didn't know whether to believe her. The girl was impossible. She picked that up from the Princess, naturally. She knew it was a mistake having a Countess as the Princess's companion, even if she was an impoverished one.

The silly child was supposed to provide the Princess with friendship, while also leading by good example in the classroom. Naturally the child would not take instruction from the mere widow of an insignificant Lord, even if she had been tutored by the great philosopher Sir Waldeborough himself.

If the King had been a sensible man, he would have taken her advice and had one of her young nieces as the royal companion. Someone who didn't sneer with contempt whenever she brought out the cane. Then, in the fullness of time, she'd go with the Princess to the Citadel and become a trusted lady-in-waiting to the new Queen. This young Countess would never be the loyal servant of the court, she had far too much ambition.

And if ever there was a time for loyalty... There'd been talk of rebellion in the Northern villages. The Princess had been restless of late. Her eyes were always drifting to the window as if she could actually see the peasants marching through the streets. Coombar Manor had burnt down, not six miles from them, adding to the girl's unease. Lady Fae had been forced to close the curtains during their lessons just in case the girls had spotted a plume of smoke and asked what it was.

The little fool probably sneaked out to have a good look. Lady Fae sighed.

She shouldn't be surprised. The girl came from a long line of Kings who were always the first to plough into a battle, whether they were wanted there on not. Land and riches were only ever a feeble excuse for a war, and very often, and if those weren't available, the promise of glory would suffice.

Those men were born knowing that they would create history.

It certainly made teaching it difficult.

Twenty large volumes of the stuff sat in the royal classroom, overflowing with page after page of battles and invasions. It seemed like a ridiculous waste of time to be teaching the girl. As if knowing a pile of dates ever helped a ruler to win a battle. Frankly, she thought the Princess would be better off knowing the arts of diplomacy, which were sorely lacking in the Serrador histories.

Serradorian rulers were all about war, and if there wasn't one raging somewhere for them to join, they'd start their own. It was hardly surprising that the girl would want to sneak out to join the fray. She was probably standing outside of the town hall right now, waving a cutlass and daring anyone that came near to challenge her.

A short laugh escaped Lady Fae, before she covered it up with a delicate cough into her hankie. She shouldn't let her mind wander like that.

The Countess was watching her. The girl's sweet round face the picture of virtue. Only the twitch at the corner of her lips betrayed any deviousness.

"I'll just ring the bell," said Lady Fae, getting to her feet.

The servants always took far to long to respond. The miles between them and the Citadel made them sink into country ways. Lady Fae turned her back on her lone pupil, examining the dreary landscape on the wall so that she didn't have to meet the girl's eye.

"Yes, my lady?" asked one of the servants, popping his head around the door, while still carrying a load of firewood.

Lady Fae gritted her teeth. How dare he come into the royal presence with his arms full of lumber, and that insolent look on his face. The fact that the Princess wasn't actually in attendance was hardly the point.

"Please send someone to check on Her Royal Highness. I believe she may be unwell."

"Sure thing," he said, banging the door on his way out before she could say anything about his tone.

The servants at Hoxleigh Palace had not always been so bad. She could still remember the line up when she brought the Princess here a little over sixteen years ago. One hundred and twenty six there'd been, waiting in neat lines for the carriage to draw up. She'd counted them while the Steward made his welcome speech.

The wet nurse, a silly woman if ever there was one, had almost fainted when each of the maids in turn curtsied as she walked past, the royal babe in her arms.

This past year things had begun to change. Maids looked her straight in the eye when they passed in the corridor, and the man-servants bows were short and hurried, like she was keeping them from their work. As if their duties weren't to serve the Princess, and by extension, Lady Fae.

"Do you think she's run away with her lover, Duenna?" said the Countess.

Lady Fae spun around aghast. The Princess couldn't have a lover. That was impossible. The girl didn't know anyone. Her lady-in-waiting was under strict instructions to inform her if the Princess so much as got out of bed to fetch herself a cup of water in the night. The woman could be bought, of course, but the Princess had no money of her own...

The Countess could not hold the giggles in any longer, and her shoulders shook with the effort of suppressing them.

"Oh, shut up," snapped Lady Fae, marching back round to her desk. "You're not to say another word all day."