1635: The Eastern Front by Eric Flint

Author:Eric Flint
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3, pdf
Tags: Fiction - Science Fiction, Graphic novels: Manga, American Science Fiction And Fantasy, Science Fiction, Alternative History, Modern & contemporary fiction (post c 1945), General, Fantasy, Science Fiction - General, General & Literary Fiction, fiction, Science Fiction - Military
ISBN: 9781439133897
Publisher: Baen
Published: 2010-10-05T00:00:00+00:00

Stockholm

"That was a truly miserable experience," said Baldur Norddahl, once they were far enough away from the queen of Sweden's audience chamber not to be overheard.

Prince Ulrik made a sour little noise. "Exhausting, too."

"At least now we know why the princess is sometimes given to moods."

Ulrik made another sour noise, this one not so little. "‘Is sometimes given to moods.' Is that Norwegian berserk-speak for ‘is sometimes a miniature harridan and others a very short lunatic'?"

"Your words, not mine," Baldur replied serenely. "And that's a terrible way to refer to your future bride. ‘Harridan!' ‘Lunatic!'"

They reached one of the great doors that led to Slottsbacken, the street that provided the main entrance to the palace. It was more in the way of a plaza than a street, really. Stockholm's great church sat on its western edge.

As soon as they stepped through into the sunlight, Ulrik squared his shoulders. The gesture was half a shrug, half an expression of relief at getting outside. Under the cheeriest of monarchs, the Swedish royal palace would have been on the somber side. Under the influence of Queen Maria Eleonora, it was downright gloomy.

"Kristina is a very intelligent harridan and lunatic," Ulrik said philosophically. "I could do worse. As long as she takes after her father instead of her mother, the marriage should at least be tolerable."

"I certainly hope she doesn't inherit her mother's taste in entertainment."

Ulrik grimaced. The Swedish queen doted on dwarfs and buffoons. The wretched creatures had half-filled the audience chamber.

"Dear God. Yes, let's hope so."

They headed for one of the other wings of the palace, where Ulrik and his entourage had their quarters.

"Look on the bright side, Prince. For at least six more years—no, probably seven or eight or possibly even nine or ten—you won't have to be sharing a bed with the little lunatic harridan. And by the time you do, she won't be so little. Which means—"

"And to think it was you, Baldur, who showed Danish royalty how to execute a man by crushing him in a diving suit."

Baldur smiled, but did not pursue the train of thought further.

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