The Paper Crown

3. The Two Princes

"Princess Maria," he says in undertone to me. "Copy what I do."

Princess Maria says something in a foreign language. My uncle replies in the same, then takes the loaf of bread and breaks off a chunk. He dips it in the bowl and eats. Princess Maria looks encouragingly at me.

I take the loaf of bread and break off a piece. The bowl contains salt and it is gritty and overpowering in my mouth. Over Princess Maria's shoulders, I continue to look for Prince Mariusz. There are only two men here young enough to be him. They both wear plain, elegant suits and their gazes are focussed not on my uncle but on me. One is mousey-fair and greyhound-lean, while the other is darker, taller, and more classically handsome. Without knowing which is Prince Mariusz, I dare not smile at either.

King Edmund takes the tray from Princess Maria, and she breaks off her own chunk of bread, dips it in the salt, and eats it. This results in another round of polite applause from the crowd on the opposite platform. As it dies out, the fairer of the two young men comes forward. He moves like a greyhound too, with a springy, quick step, tucked chin, and watchful, quick-moving eyes.

He stops before me and hides his eyes beneath downcast brown lashes.

"Princess Alexandra," my uncle says. "May I introduce His Royal Highness the Duke of Selica, Prince Mariusz?"

"You may."

"Prince Mariusz, I present Her Royal Highness Princess Alexandra of Rothalia."

I hold out my hand and Prince Mariusz bows low and kisses it through my silk glove. When he rises again, I try to meet his gaze, but he is already twisting away to look at his royal retainers. In profile, his head is finely boned and faintly hawklike, thanks to the crook in his nose. I find I like it.

Behind Prince Mariusz, the other young man is coming forward. He bows low to my uncle and quietly addresses him. I watch Prince Mariusz, but he turns to speak to his sister in the language I do not understand. For the first time it occurs to me to wonder if we share any language at all. I can speak French, or I could before I was locked in the tower. I rack my mind to come up with a phrase of introduction in the language, but all I can think of is the useless phrase: pas devant les domestiques.

"Princess Alexandra," my uncle says in my own language. "May I introduce Prince Konrad of Selica?"

I turn back to my uncle and the other young man. Now I notice a resemblance between him and Prince Mariusz. He has the same delicate features but with all the kinks ironed out of his bones. His nose is straight, his blue eyes unshadowed by a deep brow, his chin without the pugnacious tilt. Even his black widow's peak is dead centre, while Mariusz's mousey-fair hairline lists to one side. And all this regularity of form and feature, which ought to make him more handsome than Mariusz, somehow seems like a deficiency by comparison.

The distant court manners of my youth return to me. I hold out my hand. "You may."

"Prince Konrad, I present Her Royal Highness Princess Alexandra of Rothalia."

He bends over my hand and like Mariusz kisses it. "I am honoured, your highness."

He speaks my language, though with a definite accent. Then perhaps Mariusz will too.

Prince Mariusz turns back to King Edmund and me, though somehow he won't meet my eyes. His gaze seems to slide right over me before settling on my uncle. Again, he speaks in a foreign tongue and my uncle replies in the same. Then he turns away, and again his gaze seems to slide over me without touching. I can't even be sure what colour his eyes are.

"Princess Alexandra?" Prince Konrad says.

He has spoken twice, I realise, as I watch Mariusz walk away to speak with an old, important looking man.

"I beg your pardon. What did you say?"

"I asked if you did not find Selica a harsh landscape. I know I found it harsh when I first arrived here. Only over time did its rugged beauty become apparent to me."

What a polite, useless comment.

"I find it pleasant."

"You are a connoisseur of beauty, then, if you can appreciate Selica upon first impression."

I drag my eyes from Prince Mariusz's back to look at Prince Konrad. His expression is earnest and interested, and more than slightly stupid.

"Sir, I have been in prison for three years. There are few landscapes less beautiful than four stone walls and a caged sky."

"Of course." Prince Konrad bows. "How clumsy my question now appears."

He moves away to speak with Princess Maria. King Edmund raises his eyebrows slightly.

"I see you have not lost your old knack of making friends."

"Should I make a friend out of him? Who is he?"

"Prince Konrad is Prince Mariusz's cousin," he says. "He is said to be very clever. He writes poetry, apparently."

A cousin then. A cousin who writes poetry at that.

Perhaps my disdain shows in my face. My uncle adds, "I suggest you make friends where you can, Alexandra. Not everyone will be as welcoming as Prince Konrad."

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2024-04-05: We meet our hero and eventual love interest. Ah, but which one is it? The tall, dark, handsome one who is nice to her, or the lithe, blondish, crooked one who won't look at her?