Three: Lunch with the Princess

The princess stared at me blankly, but that was quite alright. I’m sure she was just stunned by my attractiveness, so I gave her a moment to recover and turned my attention to the betrothed, whose mouth was slowly pressing into a thinner and thinner line. A feat considering he didn’t have much lip real estate to begin with.

“Who are you?” I asked, giving him a once over and raising an eyebrow disdainfully. “An uncle?”

“I,” the man, who according to the princess’s scroll was named Ewan, began furiously, “am her betrothed. Who are you?”

I scoffed, leaning back in my stolen seat. “The one who truly loves her, of course.” I offered a hand for him to shake and he scowled, confused, years of manners making him automatically reach up to shake in kind, but pausing halfway as he realized what I’d said. I didn’t mind and grabbed his half-raised hand on my own.

“Darren Faraman, son of Marquis Faraman. A pleasure, I’m sure.”

Ewan’s eyebrows flipped up in surprise, and he lost some of his combativeness, returning my handshake enthusiastically. “Ewan Englewood. I didn’t realize who you were. My apologies for the rudeness.”

The only person who had been rude here was me, but nobles were all simpering buffoons, eager to suck up to anyone above them.

And ‘Darren Faraman’ was quite a few steps above Ewan on the nobility food chain.

Darren really was the son of Marquis Faraman, but very few in the capital truly knew what he looked like. The Faramans lived at the border of Pansolum, managing relations with the neighboring countries, and they very rarely circulated among the nobility in the capital, but they were highly valued by the king for their diplomatic abilities.

And Darren, the heir to the Marquis, was a notorious recluse, more interested in books than people, which made him an ideal person to impersonate.

“I hadn’t realized the Faramans had returned to the capital. I’ll be sure to call on your father as soon as possible,” Ewan continued, apparently forgetting that I’d declared my love for his betrothed not more than a minute ago.

“I made this trip solo, unfortunately. My parents are still at the border.”

“I see,” Ewan said, “So what made you travel back on your own?”

I could have sworn I’d already said my purpose, but Ewan didn’t appear to be the sharpest tool in the shed.

“I’m here to see my beloved, of course. Beatrice and I have been exchanging letters for months now, and my heart could no longer take it. I had to see her.” I turned my gaze back to the princess, looking at her lovingly. Her nose wrinkled imperceptibly, but she was a great deal smarter than Ewan, and immediately began playing along.

“I…had hoped we would be able to meet,” she said haltingly, “but…”

I nodded sympathetically. “I understand. Your parents don’t know of our love, do they? Otherwise, they never would have arranged another engagement.”

“No,” she swallowed visibly, the look in her eyes simultaneously betraying her nervousness at not knowing where I was going with this and also warning me not to go too far, “they do not.”

Ewan finally seemed to catch on, puffing up his cheeks. He may respect Darren Faraman as someone of higher status – Ewan was nothing more than a count who had probably offered the king some sort of bribe for the right to marry his daughter – but he couldn’t give up the princess. Marrying the princess would automatically make him a prince and give him the deed to a sizable amount of land, as well as numerous other benefits.

Status alone wouldn’t be enough to discourage someone like Ewan. Luckily, he wasn’t my target today.

The two chaperones, who had stopped just beyond our table, mouths agape as they watched the drama unfolding before them, finally found an opening to step in. One was an older, matronly woman wearing a tightly buttoned yellow dress, hair slicked back in a neat bun. The other was younger, around the same age as the princess and similar to her in appearance, her wide blue eyes glimmering with a hint of hidden excitement, like she was enjoying the show. She was either a close cousin to the royal family, or one of Beatrice’s sisters, but she was definitely related somehow.

“Excuse me,” the older chaperone said again sternly, “you are interrupting a royal courtship. Leave immediately, or I will summon the guards.”

I offered her a gentle smile. “I understand the risk I’m taking. Please, just allow me to say my piece and catch up with the princess.”

Her face screwed up, clearly wanting to argue with me, but I ignored her, turning back to the princess. She spluttered behind me, but with no one at the table paying her any attention, she didn’t have an opening to continue unless she used force, and with so many eyes on us, she didn’t dare.

“I forgive you for not mentioning our love,” I sighed, looking at Beatrice with warmth and patting the back of her hand. “I know why, no need to explain. Having not seen me in person for so long, you must not have felt sure of my affections, and thus, were scared to bring it up. But believe me, princess, there is no one in this world I would rather give my heart to than you. I rushed all the way here over night, exhausting three horses just to make it to your side before this farce could continue.” I turned to Ewan, apologetic on the surface, laughing underneath, “My apologies for wasting your time, Count. I had been a fool, lingering at the border for so long when I should have relocated here the moment the princess appeared to return my affections. Today, I’ve come here to ask you to retract your proposal. I’m sure that someone as…well-connected as yourself should have no trouble securing another engagement.”

Ewan spluttered for a moment, cheeks a furious red. I could see him struggling not to curse in front of the princess, but I continued to play with her fingers, treating him as air while casually twisting a gorgeous sapphire ring around the princess’s middle finger. Her hands were very tense, fighting not to shake me off. I met her eyes and grinned.

A hint of pink dusted the top of her cheeks.

“Well, I’m very sorry to say this.” Ewan finally found his voice. “But the king and queen themselves bestowed the princess’s hand in marriage to me. And I feel quite strongly for the princess as well, so actually, the person who will be seeking another engagement is you.”

I dropped any pretense of politeness and looked at him coldly, changing face in an instant. “Is that so? Then I suppose I’ll have to speak to the king and queen personally and beg for them to change their minds. While I’m there, I’ll be sure to mention a few of my worries regarding her betrothal to you.”

Ewan scowled. “Worries? What worries?”

I sighed, scrubbing my chin as though I was truly troubled.

“I worry for the princess’s comfort if she marries you. After all, even though you are so deeply in love with the princess, your household will be quite crowded if she joins it, what with all your mistresses taking up the extra bedrooms. She’ll hardly have room to stretch her legs in your estate without accidentally kicking one of your bastards.”

There seemed to be a hush over the entire second floor of the restaurant. Despite the illusion of privacy given by the half-wall, sound traveled right through it as though it was paper, and the allure of good gossip was too powerful to the rich people dining at The Premier this afternoon. I expected that the news about Count Ewan’s attic full of mistresses and his bevy of illegitimate children would flood the streets by nightfall.

The best part about all this was that I wasn’t even lying. It had taken me a few hours of research to discover the Count’s indiscretions, longer than it usually took me, but the Count was a sly bastard. I was quite good at uncovering deeply buried skeletons to use as threats, but the Count was experienced in covering his tracks. Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t so easy to fool, and hit the jackpot of indiscretions.

The king and queen, though not as sentimental as to actually ask their daughter what she wanted in a husband, likely would not have selected the Count as her betrothed had they known that she would be sharing space with countless other women.

It would be insulting for the royal family to marry their daughter into that sort of humiliating situation.

To be honest, the Count was quite ballsy to approach the king and queen for an engagement at all. Now that the information was out in the open, the king and queen would investigate the matter for sure. Ewan’s fate was already sealed, because once the words left my mouth, not only did the princess send him an incredulous glare, the two chaperones both locked their eyes on him dangerously, like wild cats readying to pounce.

Ewan swallowed hard.

“What slander,” he said weakly. “Only those of weak character spread baseless rumors. Princess, you must not believe him.”

“If it were baseless, I imagine you wouldn’t look like you were walking the gangplank,” the princess said dryly, retracting her hands from mine to cross them over her chest. Ewan paled.

I snorted and sat back as well. This was going quite smoothly, better than I thought it would.

Truthfully, I had considered just spreading the rumors about Ewan and letting things run their course without any need to physically intervene. There was less risk to me personally, then. Unfortunately, my research had also uncovered exactly how good Ewan was at suppressing rumors.

He didn’t just stick to bribes. Ewan had several creative ways of making rumor spreaders disappear. I’d heard accounts of silent home murders, public executions after planting false evidence, even tragic carriage accidents and supposed suicides. Ewan’s hands were dirtier than a miner’s, and he had loyal servants in every corner of Pansolum. I couldn’t guarantee that any attempt for me to spread the rumors would actually flourish.

The only way I could spread the rumor effectively was to ensure that the princess’s chaperones heard it, and that it appeared to come from a reputable source – i.e., another noble, the son of a Marquis to boot.

“I think this lunch is over,” the older chaperone said, her tone so frigid that I could see Ewan visibly shiver. “We’ll be in touch, Count. My lady, please.” She gestured for the princess to come to her side, and she did so obediently, passing me a glance as she did that held something like respect.

But I wasn’t quite done. I really had to stick the landing; my pride would allow nothing less.

As the princess passed my chair, I slid to the ground on one knee, clutching desperately at her hand. She narrowed her eyes at me warningly, and I hid a smile behind her knuckles.

“I meant what I said, dearest princess. I would be honored to take your hand in marriage, but even if your family refuses, I will be content to know that I managed to keep you out of this villain’s grasp. Please, don’t stop writing to me.”

Translation: I’ve done my job, don’t forget to pay me.

The princess truly was a smart cookie, and she nodded, clearly grasping the alternate meaning.

I watched her and her chaperones leave, quietly slipping a pretty sapphire ring into my pocket. The princess didn’t seem like the type to stiff me, but I wanted a little insurance anyway, just in case.

Ewan spit furious curses at me the moment the princess was out of earshot, but I blocked him out easily, congratulating myself on a job well done.

Now, if the heavens continued to smile upon me, I just had to wait for my money and in a few days, I could be on a ship and away from Pansolum forever.

Sweet freedom, here I come.