At the Queen's Command by Michael Stakpole

Author:Michael Stakpole [Stackpole, Michael A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Science Fiction And Fantasy, Fiction - Fantasy, Fiction
ISBN: 9781597802772
Publisher: Night Shade Books
Published: 2010-11-16T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-Seven

August 25, 1763

Prince Haven

Temperance Bay, Mystria

Prince Vlad waved as Nathaniel rode up to the estate. He and Kamiskwa had just finished supervising Mugwump’s feeding. The Altashee had remained down by the river, tickling fish out, while the Prince had changed in anticipation of the Princess’ arrival. He wore a blue velvet jacket with gold trim over a fresh white shirt, pants to match jacket, white hose, and black shoes with gold buckles.

“How far back of you are they?”

“Well, ’bout an hour. Maybe more. I set out before they had fully commenced coming.” Nathaniel dismounted, flipped open a saddlebag, and handed the Prince a note sealed by Count von Metternin. “He said this would explain it all, and that you ain’t got no worries.”

The Prince accepted the note. “Will you tell me of her?”

Nathaniel smiled. “I was swore not to, and I keep my word on things confidential.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I reckon we’re going to have us a conversation.” Nathaniel turned the horse over to a stablehand, having shucked his sheathed rifle from the saddle-scabbard. “The Princess said you was to wait for her in your laboratory. She respected what the Count tole her about you. That’s where she’s fixing on meeting you.”

Interesting. Though the Count had not seemed horribly fixated on protocol, Vlad had assumed Princess Gisella would be. She’d certainly been schooled in it. She was being sent to him as an instrument of diplomacy, so all that truly mattered was that conventions be observed. If she is not concerned with them, what does concern her?

“And you will share no observations with me?”

“Nope. I do as I is told.”

“I would be more inclined to believe you if you were not clearly so pleased with the situation.”

Nathaniel grinned. “I might be taking some satisfaction in it.”

“And on this matter you and I need to discuss?”

The woodsman frowned. “’Pears the Count got some notions in his head about Rachel and me. More than gossip notions.”

“That would be because I told him about you after he asked.”

Nathaniel’s rifle rested easily in folded arms. “I’ll grant you got spine to just up and say it that way. Said anything else, I’d a-thumped you.”

The Prince opened his hands. “Nathaniel, you told me of your situation in confidence, and I do respect that.”

“But you thought sharing it with the Count was just fine and dandy?” Anger gathered on Nathaniel’s face.

Vlad did not back down. “I employ you as my agent. I am responsible for you. I am responsible for your actions. What you told me was told in confidence, because you trusted me. You trusted me not to hurt you, and I have not. The Count has his duties, and they require him to trust you, too. He could only do that if I disclosed things that would counteract any gossip he heard about you.”

Nathaniel shook his head. “How do you know you can trust him?”

“Does he seem like the sort of man to gossip about another man’s affairs?”

“Hain’t seen nothing to suggest he is, but he could be fooling you and me.

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