Chapter 25: The Lady in Black

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"What makes you think I would be disgusted by that?" Alice said with a frown. "Do you realise Pip, this castle depends on the honest toil of hundreds of servants?"

"I did realise that, yes," Pip said quietly. "I wasn't sure if royalty were always aware of it though."

"Well, Bernard and I were brought up to treat servants with courtesy," Alice said. "From the time we were small, Mummy and Daddy taught us that servants had to work very hard and do some disagreeable tasks, and we should never be impatient or cross with them."

"Sometimes Bernard is a little impatient," Pip said. The words had slipped out without him thinking.

"I'm what?" Bernard said, aghast.

"I'm sorry Bernard, I only meant you tend to ... raise your voice at them. Sometimes."

"They don't listen to me unless I do," Bernard protested. "They obey Father because he's the king, and Alice here just bats her eyelashes and says Oh how kind of you, and they all fall at her feet. It's a lot harder for a prince to gain their respect. This isn't my palace, you know."

"Bernard will learn how to manage his own staff when the time comes," Alice said, as if pronouncing the final judgement on the situation. "The question is, Pip, what is it that you'd rather do, now that you don't need to work?"

"Well ... I've always wanted to be an artist," Pip said. "I've done a little painting, and I wish I could learn to improve."

"Nothing could be easier," Alice said. "We can send for art supplies, and you can take lessons, if you would like. Or you can practice by yourself."

"I'd like that very much," Pip said, suddenly realising how much he had missed being able to sketch and paint.

Alice then said she could see Hugo, and was going to watch him play on another court. She departed, accompanied by her faithful ladies-in-waiting, and the woman in black.

"Who's that lady that always follows Alice about?" Pip asked curiously.

"Doña de la Rosario? She's Alice's duenna," Bernard said.

"What's a duenna?"

"Well, it's a sort of Castilian thing. Our uncle and aunt arranged for her to go everywhere with Alice when she's not with family, to make sure she behaves correctly."

"Alice always seems very correct to me," said Pip in confusion.

"Um. She's there to make sure ... Alice doesn't have improper relations," Bernard said uncomfortably. "Not even with Hugo. Er, you know, because if you're born on the wrong side of the blanket, you can't be heir to the throne."

"You mean, the duenna is there to keep Alice ... pure?" Pip queried. "Until her wedding night?"

"Um, yes. Pretty much," said Bernard, clearly wanting this discussion of his sister's virginity to be over.

"Well, what about me?" Pip demanded.

"I think it's a bit late to get you a duenna," Bernard said jokingly. "And they're not for men, anyway."

"Doesn't that seem unfair?" Pip said. "Alice can't talk to Hugo alone, while meanwhile we're meeting in the woods every day."

"We didn't get to the woods this morning," Bernard said with satisfaction. "We didn't even make it out of the stables."

He looked around, and risked a little squeeze of Pip's thigh, in memory of the stables this morning, and how adorable Pip looked with straw in his hair.

"No seriously, Bernard," Pip said. "Why am I treated so differently to Alice?"

"You can't get pregnant, can you?" Bernard muttered into his ear.

Pip thought hard. It was obvious, now Bernard said it. He couldn't get pregnant, he could never have a baby. He knew enough about royalty to know that kings and princes married chiefly so they could gain an heir to their throne, and princesses so they could produce an heir to another throne.

Bernard would one day be the king of Lindensea, and he didn't have a younger brother who could rule after him, while his younger sister was destined to be queen consort of Castile. If Bernard married Pip, he would be without an heir, and the kingdom could be thrown into a constitutional crisis upon his death. Those were the bald facts, and there was no getting around them.

For the first time, Pip wished that Zarvic's potion had turned him into a woman after all. Bernard really needed a wife, not a husband.

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Another week went by. Bernard sent servants to buy Pip the best art supplies possible, and he was promised a tutor. Bernard was writing to an artist he knew of that he thought Pip would like – a painter living in Paris. Pip found that being able to paint as much as he wanted each day kept him focused, and was a distraction from other problems. He didn't worry about not being able to have a baby while he was painting.

He sometimes thought he should follow Alice's example and not see Bernard alone, but was unable to fulfil that ideal. The nights were warm, and Pip was tortured, knowing that Bernard was just up the stairs, yet completely out of reach, for his bedroom door had two guards on it.

Pip spent every night longing for Bernard, and when Bernard knocked on his door, asking if he'd like to go for an early morning ride, his resolve crumbled. His skin was achingly hungry for Bernard's touch.

Pip worked on a painting that showed two men together in the woods, their limbs bare, a great feeling of energy on the canvas despite the peacefulness of the scene. He left their faces almost blank, and hoped nobody could guess it represented he and Bernard.

 He left their faces almost blank, and hoped nobody could guess it represented he and Bernard

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