Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Duke Darius of Isen was having a long day. Or maybe it was déjà vu, he wasn't sure which.

All he knew was that he found himself once more standing before the stout figure of Mrs Werren, the head of the Royal Laundry, listening to yet another trick that Prince Tristan had played on her.

It was the third time this week.

"I wouldn't be so put out my lord, if it didn't keep happening. But Prince Tristan used a very solid metal bucket this time and it caught me in the temple when it was falling on my head. I feel quite dizzy and am certain I shall have a bruise tomorrow."

Mrs Werren raised a work-roughened hand to show the place she had been hit. It was true; a sizable bump was starting to appear above her right eyebrow. It looked tender and must have caused some pain.

Duke Darius sighed.

"I am very sorry to hear that my previous conversation did not bear fruit, Mrs Werren, please be assured that I will ensure the Prince knows the severity of my displeasure."

"Thank you, my lord, I should be most grateful," the laundry mistress replied, bobbing him a quick curtsey before she left.

Darius allowed himself the indulgence of a groan before striding off in the direction of the sword-fighting arena. He was loath to interrupt Prince Edgar, but he knew that if these antics from Prince Tristan were allowed to continue, then King Aldred would have to be involved.

At all costs, he was determined that the king should not be bothered with this - given the rising pressure from Deburan on their northern border. The last thing his old friend needed to be bothered with was his younger son's pranks.

As he strode through the archway, he was relieved to see that the training had just come to an end. Twelve or so young men were stretching near the edge of the training arena, dusty and flushed. In their midst he caught the glimpse of a brown curly head and raised his voice to be heard.

"Prince Edgar!" The young man turned and instantly started towards him. He broke into a light jog and approached the duke with a slight smile.

"What can I do for you, my lord?" he enquired, wiping sweat from his face.

"I'm afraid that Tristan has been causing trouble with the staff, Edgar," the duke replied. "I have already spoken to him of it, but this is the third time this week he has played a prank upon Mrs Werren. I am afraid she has a rising bruise from a falling bucket catching her upon the temple."

Edgar frowned. "A metal bucket you say? I only ever remember wooden ones from our childhood antics in Mrs Dorvey's kitchen."

"Well my lad, as you have heard, Tristan has decided to upgrade those childish frolics to something more serious. In truth, I came to see if you would have any idea where he might be hiding. Can you think of any escape hole you used to flee to as a youngster?"

The prince paused for a moment as he considered. "I would place my money on either the hay loft or the grain store, my lord. Those were our regular haunts, though I cannot remember the last time I had cause to run to either."

The duke nodded. "Then may I solicit your help in this, Edgar? If I cover the granary and you the hay loft, we shall be able to find our culprit far more quickly." Edgar readily agreed and they parted hurriedly in either direction.

Inwardly cursing, the older prince strode towards the hayloft, wondering what had possessed his younger brother to all of a sudden behave like an adolescent. He had had a mischievous streak in his youth. They had both felt the rage of both Mrs Werren and Mrs Dorvey in their childhood, but it had been years since Tristan's last trick. He was now fifteen and but a week from beginning his training to be a knight …

Edgar suddenly halted.

His training to become a knight, of course! Tristan would be sowing his 'wild oats' as the duke would put it, trying to rid himself of his mischief before his departure to the west. But of course, he would choose to do it this week, with their father just on the brink of negotiations with Deburan.

In his annoyance, Edgar broke into a run and approached the old hay loft, wondering whether Tristan would be following his old tricks. With swift steps he climbed the rickety case, shouting loudly for his brother.

A hiss greeted his shouts. "Ed, is that you?" A tousled mop of sandy curls followed the voice.

Edgar bit back a smile at his brother's expression. He still seemed so young to him at times. "Who else would it be pup?" he asked, using his childhood nickname for his brother. "Who else would know to find you here of all places?"

Tristan grinned. "Has Uncle Darius been enlisting your help then, Edgar?"

"He's concerned about your behavior Tristan and I have to say that I am a little alarmed. Are you so concerned about your departure that you need to play these childish tricks? Do you know that Mrs Werren has a sizable graze on the side of her head from the bucket you propped up? She could have been seriously hurt."

"You know as well as I that old Werry's got a head made of stone, Ed," Tristan laughed. "We got her good and proper many times when we were boys."

Edgar shook his head. "With a wooden bucket, Tris, not a metal one and what do you mean by these antics anyway? How do you think Father would feel if he was to hear of such behavior?"

His brother's face fell. "Edgar, Father doesn't need to know of this. I only meant it for a joke."

"It's gone beyond a mere joke now. That is why my lord the duke sought me out. You need to come and apologise Tristan, it's the only way to resolve this."

Tristan groaned. "You're not serious, Ed? It was a joke for the hundredth time!"

"It's not amusing to anyone when you risk seriously harming an older lady. Mrs Werren has worked hard all her life and it's small thanks from us if she receives frequent 

blows in the head for her years of faithful service."

"Fine! Just don't turn into a king before my eyes!"

"I'm sorry to break it to you Tris, but I have little choice in the matter."

Tristan grew more serious. "I am sorry Edgar, I truly meant no harm."

Edgar allowed himself a smile. "I know, but you have to realise that you aren't a child any more Tristan. When you reach maturity, life becomes a lot more serious and people expect you to realise that " especially if you're a prince."

"Don't I know it."

"Welcome to the world, pup." Edgard side-stepped as he earned himself an elbow in the side.

With slow steps they headed back to the laundry and a now red-faced Mrs Werren. She glanced up in surprise from viewing her workforce and bobbed a deep curtsey. The workforce likewise bobbed deeply, although some among the younger maids could not help whispering at the entrance of the two princes.

"My lords," Mrs Werren said crisply, "what may I do for you?"

Tristan gazed guiltily at the lump now rising on the laundry mistress' face and would have left if Edgar had not clamped a hand on his shoulder. "My brother wishes to say something to you, Mistress Werren," he replied.

"Oh yes, your highness, and what is that?" the old woman replied with, throwing a thoroughly scornful look at his brother.

"I am very sorry, Werr- Mistress Werren for my inconsiderate and completely inappropriate actions," Tristan stated. "I had no right to play any of those tricks upon you and completely apologise. Please feel assured it will never happen again."

The laundress placed two red hands on her ample hips and glared at the prince as though he were a mere stripling. "I should certainly hope not, my lord Tristan. I would have expected such behaviour when you were a young boy, but I hope you would have more restraint now you are approaching maturity."

"Please feel assured, Mistress Werren that my brother will never comport himself in such an manner again," Edgar assured her. "If he does, please send word to me and he will be immediately dealt with."

Tristan flinched.

Edgar suddenly had an idea. "In fact, I believe that it would do him a lot of good to help you clear up the mess that his trick made."

His brother stared, "what? No Edgar you can't be serious …"

"I am completely serious and I hope it teaches you respect for hard working people, brother."

Without another word, Edgar strode out of the laundry, leaving his brother to the tender mercies of Mrs Werren.

Once within the confines of his own chambers, though, he was unable to resist a hearty laugh at the idea of Tristan mopping the laundry mistress' gleaming floor, watched by all the laundry maids. After washing and dressing in clean clothes, he was just pondering whether to visit his mother, when a loud knocking sounded at his door.

Without waiting for an answer, a dark, stockily-built young man strode straight in. 

"Laundry duty, Edgar? Are you serious?"

Edgar laughed in response and nodded. "It was your father who got me involved Simeon, and Tristan truly did deserve it. He caused Mrs Werren to be hit very hard in the temple."

"I heard something of it from Father," the duke's son admitted. "But I thought he had spoken to him of it earlier this week."

"He did, but it seems that stronger measures were required, so I decided to intervene and hopefully make a point."

Simeon smiled. "I assume this was done to avoid the king coming to know of it?"

"You know how much pressure Father is currently under, Simeon, he doesn't need to have to deal with Tristan's childish escapades."

"What of the queen?"

"Knowing Mother she will already be aware of it, I suppose I had better go and explain myself before the gossips do. How did you come to hear of it?"

Simeon laughed. "You know how gossip is. One of those pretty maids, Lotte I believe her name is, was chatting to a friend and I happened to overhear."

Edgar shook his head. "In the midst of flirting, no doubt."

His friend shrugged. "Can I help it if the opposite sex find me irresistible?"

The prince snorted before rising. " I had better see Mama. Will you join me for hunting after luncheon?"

"Gladly. I might have to come up with an excuse for visiting the laundry before then."

As he left his chambers, Edgar tried to smother a grin. But it was almost impossible to be serious when Simeon was about. They had grown up together through the sometimes lonely days of their childhood, always slightly separated from the other children who lived in the castle. He had understood the reasons behind the needed separation, but a small part of him had secretly longed to know the freedom that lay beyond the walls of his gilded existence.

He was just approaching his mother's chambers when a swish of burgundy silk caught his eye. He grinned and followed it into the curtained wall enclosure, where he found his sister. Tall, thin and sandy haired, Tabitha was almost a mirror of their mother, but slightly lacking in her natural grace.

"I've heard a rumour," she declared with a grin.

"Oh yes?" Edgar queried, knowing what was coming.

"So you felt that scrubbing floors was a suitable punishment for our poor brother, then?"

"Tabitha, you would have agrees with me if you had seen the mark on poor Mrs Werren's head …"

"Oh I'm not defending Tris," Tabitha quickly interjected, "but I was slightly disappointed that he was so easily caught."

"And you are the mistress of subtlety then?" Edgar grinned.

His sister flushed slightly. "I have grace when it counts, Ed," she murmured, "just maybe not as much as our perfect younger sister."

Edgar laughed. They both knew that their younger sister Marie prided herself on being the perfect lady and princess, in comparison to her horse-back riding, hunting, archery-loving older sister.

"Is Mother waiting for me?" he asked.

Tabitha's blue eyes danced. "You know she is. She knew what happened before even you did probably."

"Want to come hunting this afternoon?" Edgar suggested hopefully.

Tabitha sighed. "If Yvona will let me avoid our dancing lesson. She allowed me to go for a ride before lunch, but only under the requirement that I wear an appropriate dress."

Edgar smiled and kissed her forehead. "I'll see you at luncheon then."

His sister laughed. "Enjoy the ahem beauties."

Edgar allowed himself a grin before striding towards his mother's chambers and the assembly of painted beauties he would find there. Throughout his life, he had been surrounded by these women " ladies, duchesses, marchionesses and all the minor nobility. They had flattered him, fawned over him and thoroughly bored him. He often thought that it was only in his sister and mother that he truly found real friendship with women.

With the usual ceremony he nodded to one of his mother's grooms, was announced and entered to the flurry of curtsies and bows. It was a lovely apartment, his mother's sitting chamber - light and airy, with bright tapestries and the aroma of roses filling the air. He moved among the assembled courtiers until he found his mother where he expected her, seated by the window with some sewing in her lap.

She smiled warmly at her eldest son.

"Good day, Edgar," she said sweetly, rising to kiss her son. Edgar smiled and returned the embrace warmly. For, although she had been queen since 17, Queen Cressida had always put her children first, caring for them before any other duties. "How was training?"

They seated themselves comfortably and the noise level rose once more.

Edgar could see the amusement behind his mother's eyes. She knew.

"Oh fine, Mother. But Duke Darius arrived and I had to leave rather suddenly."

"Really? This wouldn't have anything to do with Tristan would it?"

Edgar shook his head. "How could you know?"

Queen Cressida laughed. "I make it my business to know everything that goes on within my walls Edgar. But I have to say," her smile softened slightly, "I believe your action was wise. I just hope that Tristan gets this out of his system before leaving for his training."

"I hope so too Mother. I did feel sorry for poor Mrs Werren."

"Oh, she had much worse when you were both at it. But I believe your motive was greater."

"It was indeed, I would not have had Father concerned."

"I believe you are very right, my son. You father has more than enough on his mind at 

present."

Edgar nodded. "Does he wish to see me?"

"I am sure he will speak to you before the day is done," his mother replied. "But until then, I should appreciate your opinion upon a most important matter. Shall we walk in the garden?" The prince immediately rose and followed his mother from the room. 

They descended a small flight of stairs into the queen's private garden.

It was only within this relative seclusion that Queen Cressida started to speak. "Edgar, darling, these troubles with Deburan have caused us some problems that we had not forseen. It raises issues that your father and I would not have sought to raise with you until you were ready …"

"What is it, Mama?" Edgar asked. "How does it involve me?"

The queen sighed. "Edgar, the truth is that with the continual pressure from the north, we need political allies now more than ever. If you were to make a marriage of alliance with a princess then we would be able to present a united front against attack. The Princess Melina of Deburan is supposed to be very lovely."

The prince stared at his mother for a good half minute before he found his tongue. 

"Marry, Mother? You wish me to marry a girl I have never met?"

Queen Cressida felt her heart give a painful lurch. "Just think it over Edgar; it need not be Princess Melina. It may be that you choose some other princess or lady to marry, but please do give the matter some serious thought."

Edgar felt as though he had been bludgeoned in the side of the head. One minute they were speaking of his brother's childish antics, and the next " he was being asked 

to marry!

"But Mother, you always told me that you would wish me to marry when I was ready and to a lady of my choosing …"

Queen Cressida had turned very white. "Edgar, I know and I am so very sorry. The truth is, your father and I would not ask this of you if the situation were not reaching a critical point. We were married around your age and you know how happy your father and I have been."

"But Mother, you were both in love! You met several times and got to know each other before the topic of marriage was even discussed."

Her face had turned white. "My son, I know. But the truth if … Deburan has always been covetous towards our land. We thought that if emissaries were sent out, suggesting the marriage " well we thought we might be able to avoid attack. Why not consider our eastern neighbours? You have met Princess Aline before …"

Edward sighed. "And you know we could not stand each other mother! The Klignuan princess called me a "stuck up prig" the last time we met if I recall. I believe she was far more taken with Tristan's gold locks any way."

"Edgar, all I can ask you to do is consider our proposal. Please remember that as crown prince, you would be the first choice for any alliance with another country."

"Even if that choice would cause me a lifetime of misery?" Edgar wished he could take the statement back the moment he had said it. He knew that as the heir to the throne he would one day be expected to marry, but he had never thought to have the decision forced upon him.

Queen Cressida bowed her face. Edgar hated himself. He reached out a hand to clasp his mother's. "I am sorry, Mama, truly. I should not have spoken such words. I know my duty and am fully aware that you and Father would not have asked such a thing of me if it were not greatly important."

He swallowed hard. "But I do have one request. Might I have one week before I respond to your suggestion? May I take Tristan with me and go for a hunting trip, just the two of us? I believe it would help us both to put our futures in perspective and enable me to better understand my future and the choices that lie ahead."

The queen raised a hand to caress her son's cheek. "I know it was a shock Edgar and I am sorry to force you into this choice. Take a week and make your choice. I believe that some alone-time with his older brother might also help Tristan to realise his own responsibilities. Please, go and speak with your father but then go with my blessing."

Edgar left his mother's garden with a bitter-sweet taste in his mouth.

He had a week to make his decision " a lone week to decide what his very future would hold.

Reviews

[Barbara Tennyson]

There is nothing like a screwed up opening paragraph to discourage readers. This:
Duke Darius of Isen was having a long day. Of maybe it was déjà vu, he wasn't sure which. --seems to be unedited from the rough draft.
So does the rest of the text.
You could either edit before posting or warn the reader by labeling this 'Rough Draft' somewhere in the blurb