The Lady and the Prince

Lady Elizabeth put on a truly ugly dress. It was a grayish mauve with a high neck and long sleeves, and Sylvie had had charcoal gray trim added to it. She assured Elizabeth it was entirely appropriate mourning attire since Elizabeth wasn’t actually a member of the royal family yet. If she had already married Prince Nicky, she would require a black dress, which Elizabeth didn’t have. She really did need to go shopping, but under the circumstances it would have to wait.

She considered going down the hall again and trying to see Nick, but decided against it. She had tried yesterday when she had heard about the horrible accident at the hunt, but his new valet had told her the prince wasn’t receiving visitors and very courteously closed the door in her face. How he had managed that without offending her, she still wasn’t sure. Elizabeth had wanted to console Nick if she could, and she also wanted to confirm with her own eyes he was all right.

She had had quite a scare when she had been given the initial news that someone had been accidently killed, thinking it was inexperienced Nick on his first hunt. The news that it was someone she didn’t know was a relief, but it also made her very sad. The family would be mourning the young man, and Richard was seriously injured. She liked Richard and hoped he would recover, but it seemed unlikely.

Well, she would undoubtedly see her betrothed today. There was a visitation in the Warwicks’ private chapel this morning and a service for the family and close friends this afternoon. This evening Lord Albert would be moved to the cathedral for a period of public mourning. She hoped to talk to Nick at the visitation since the rest of the day would be rituals and pageantry.

Sylvie walked with her to the private chapel, but didn’t go in. Elizabeth expected something small just for the immediate family, but instead it was huge and as ornate as any cathedral. A great many people were going in and out and standing talking in groups. Private, it wasn’t. There were members of the Council and their families, military officers dressed in formal uniforms, and others she couldn’t even attempt to identify.

Elizabeth made her way down the aisle and paused at the bier. She said a small prayer and turned to offer her condolences to the family. The front bench was occupied by only one person—Princess Eugenie.

She had to wait a moment while others offered their condolences. Then she approached and said, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know Lord Albert personally, but it’s a tragedy to lose someone so young.”

Eugenie replied, “Thank you, Elizabeth. Bertie was well-loved. I expect the crowds in the cathedral will be horrendous.”

Overcome by curiosity, Elizabeth asked, “Weren’t you going to Franck?”

“Edward went on. He was in a hurry anyway, and without me he could ride rather than take a carriage. He would far rather have been here than going to King Charles’s services. He knew Bertie, and he and Richard are very close. But his duty was to go, so he went. Here, sit down for a bit, and we can chat.”

Elizabeth sat down and said, “I expected to see more of the family here.”

Eugenie paused to accept condolences from a general and his wife and then said, “The king and queen came down early this morning. Poor William is very upset by this. Bertie was his sister’s oldest grandchild. Bertie’s parents are simply prostrated with grief; they doted on that young man. Giselle is staying by Richard’s side. In spite of the fact that it was an arranged marriage, she and Richard really love each other. It was love at first sight for them.”

She paused for a short chat with the Duke of Haas, his wife, two sons, and three daughters. Then Eugenie continued, “Arthur will be in to relieve me in a little while. I don’t know if Anne or Nicky will come. They were both there when it happened you know, and everyone will understand if they only appear at the formal ceremonies. How are you doing, Elizabeth?”

“I’m all right, really. I’m a little concerned for Nick. I tried to see him yesterday, but I was turned away. Have you heard any more about Richard?”

“The physicians are saying he will live, but if he is unable to walk, I’m not sure he’ll want to. He’s always been a very physical man. I suppose Nicky was just too upset to see anyone,” Eugenie replied. Elizabeth nodded in agreement.

There were more people coming up to Eugenie, so Elizabeth just clasped her hand in farewell and retreated back a few rows, hoping Nick would appear.

Prince Nicky was still in bed. Winkershime had no authority to wake him, but he had decided it was time for the prince to get up and face the world. He had ordered breakfast, including sizzling hot sausages. He used pads to lift the hot sausage pan, took it over to the bedroom, and silently opened the door. He waved the sausage odor into the bedroom using the lid of the pan and then just as silently retreated, closing the door behind him. He waited.

Prince or not, Nicky was a teenager who hadn’t eaten since breakfast yesterday. Very soon Winkershime heard stirring in the bedroom, and then his young charge appeared sleepily in the doorway in yesterday’s underwear. Winkershime quickly poured some tea and nipped into the bedroom and fetched a robe and slippers. Nicky had sat down and started sipping the tea by the time the valet returned but dutifully slid his feet into the slippers and stood up and donned the robe when Winkershime held it up for him.

The prince gulped down his first serving of sausages, eggs, and bread and jam, but ate the second more slowly and with better manners. His brain was starting to function again.

He asked, “Winkershime, how is Richard, is he alive?”

“Your Highness, Prince Richard is alive and expected to survive, but severely injured. Little else is known at this time about his condition.”

Nicky ate for a few moments. He wondered if his valet was also his secretary and asked, “What am I supposed to do today?”

“It is urgent you do a fitting of your uniform, Your Highness. You will need it for this afternoon’s service. This morning is the visitation, which you should attend even if only briefly, and this evening there will be the procession transferring Lord Albert to the cathedral.”

The young prince just nodded. The uniform had always been something of a joke between him and Albert, but everyone who had any entitlement to military rank would be in uniform to honor a member of the royal family. Albert had been an officer too, but Nick wasn’t sure of his rank; it was just honorary for both of them.

Prince Nick had been made a lieutenant in the House Guards when he was six and been periodically promoted and given various medals and ribbons for no reason he knew of. He also got a new uniform every year, whether or not he had even worn the previous one; he wasn’t sure he had even tried on this year’s and had no idea what rank he was at the moment. Well, if his new valet could find it, he would put it on.

Winkershime had it ready for him, and as soon as Nicky finished breakfast, he donned it, and a pair of tailors hurried in and started measuring. Both the sleeves and pant legs were a little short, but his uniform was always made with large cuffs that could be let down. When he took it off, the two tailors fairly raced out of the room with it.

Nicky sat down and had another cup of tea and more bread and jam. He contemplated Winkershime. “So you are my appointment secretary as well as my valet?” he asked.

“I am whatever you need me to be, Your Highness.”

Nicky frowned a bit at that. That was not the normal attitude of a servant, at least not of any he had encountered before.

“What did you do before you became my valet?”

Winkershime hesitated, which the prince found peculiar. Surely the man knew what his previous job had been? Finally, the valet said, “I worked for Prince Richard.”

“I know Richard’s valet, you’re not him.”

“I did other things. I am quite experienced as a valet, but from some time ago.”

Nicky was not going to let the evasion pass. “What things did you do for Richard?”

Winkershime was looking very uncomfortable. “Just whatever he wished, Your Highness. I carried messages, did research for him and such.”

Nicky put down his tea, crossed his arms, and said, “I want the truth, the whole truth, or you will not continue as my valet. Understood?”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Winkershime visibly made a decision, nodding to himself, and then said, “Prince Richard had already decided you should know, so I might as well tell you. I was a spy.”

Prince Nicky’s mouth dropped open; that was the last thing he had expected to hear. “What?”

“Only the king, the crown prince, and those who worked for him knew that Prince Richard is, now likely was, not only Anglia’s Warleader, but he was also her Spymaster.”

Nicky could only manage another fainter, “What?”

“In peace, he could manage both jobs. In war, there was simply no way for one man to do both, so he has chosen a successor to train, someone with intelligence, linguistic abilities, and a certain amount of boldness. You, Your Highness.”

The prince just shook his head. “That’s impossible. I don’t know anything about spying, and I’m way too young to take on something that important.”

“Agreed, Prince Richard expected to train you for three or four years at least. I am the first step in your training. I can be with you a great deal without any suspicion and teach you the basics.”

Nicky raked a hand through his hair; it was messy anyway, so it made no difference. “But Richard could still do it, couldn’t he?”

“I’m afraid not. Someone needs to take over for him immediately. If he survives, he may be able to give advice at some future time, but it will be a long time before he is recovered sufficiently.”

“But then…I don’t know anything about the job. Someone else will have to take it on until I learn.”

“Yes, and someone will, although I don’t know who. Likely one of the senior agents will handle most of the detail work, but any big decisions will have to come from higher up. The Warwicks will trust one of their own in such a position far more than an outsider regardless of experience, so unless you flatly refuse, the job is yours to take over as quickly as you can.”

“I have to think about this. I’m going to the visitation. Lay out my clothes, please, while I clean up.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Dressed in a black suit, light gray shirt, and dark gray scarf, Nicky went down to the palace chapel. He thought he had himself under control until he saw the bier at the far end of the aisle. Then he stopped walking, not able to force himself forward for a moment. I’m an adult, this is what adults do, he thought as he took a deep breath and began to slowly walk toward the front.

He was aware that there were a lot of people there, some of them watching him openly, some not so openly. He made it all the way up to the bier and stared down at Bertie’s body. He dropped his eyes quickly; this was not how he wanted to remember his cousin. Someone came up and stood next to him; Arthur put his hand on Nicky’s shoulder.

“We’re all going to miss him,” Arthur said quietly.

Nicky could only manage to nod. Arthur guided him away to sit next to him on the front bench. Together they received condolences, and Nicky found that it helped somehow. He wasn’t alone; a lot of people shared his pain. Someone sat down on the other side of him, and he was pleased to see that it was Anne. She took his hand and gave it a little squeeze, and Nicky’s heart lifted. Whether or not she trusted him or believed him innocent or guilty, she wasn’t angry anymore, and she still loved him. They were still brother and sister. He smiled a little at her, and she smiled faintly back.

Lady Elizabeth saw Nicky go past without seeing her. When he joined Arthur, and then Anne sat next to him, she realized she wouldn’t have the opportunity to speak to him, not at the moment anyway. Well, perhaps later or tomorrow. She left and went back to her suite to have a light lunch and write a letter to Gramp and the boys. She could see that the private ceremony was going to be very crowded, and she wanted to return early to get a seat. Since she wasn’t officially part of the family yet, she wasn’t sure if she would be allowed in the reserved family seating for anything official.

When she returned to the chapel, there were already a great many people there. Most of the royal family were standing in a group at the front, and Prince Nicky, now dressed in uniform as were many of the men, saw her and beckoned to her.

She said, “I’m so sorry about Bertie and Richard,” when she reached him, and he replied, “Thank you. I’m sorry you never had the chance to meet Albert. He was just very special. He was such a nice, happy person. Everyone who met him liked him, and he liked everybody. I’ll be escorting you and Anne, we’ll be seated directly behind the king and queen. Bertie’s parents and sisters will be across the aisle. Arthur is escorting Eugenie and Giselle, they’ll be seated behind them in the second row with the heads of the army and navy and their wives behind them. There’s nothing you need to do except stand for the king and the Anglian flag, and then we will follow Arthur’s group on the way out. I’ll be standing for the military honors, just ignore me.”

The king was announced, and everyone stood. King William escorted both the queen and Giselle, who was heavily veiled. Arthur met them at the front and took Giselle to her seat, and once the king and the queen were seated, everyone sat, and the ceremony began.

Lady Elizabeth had no difficulty following the service. All the officiators were high-ranking ecclesiastics and were excellent speakers. But it lasted two hours, and she was glad when it was over. The Anglian flag and the Warwick flag were lowered at an angle and led the procession out, followed by the king and queen, Arthur with Giselle and Eugenie, and then Nicky with Anne and Elizabeth.

Prince Nicky took them to Lady Elizabeth’s suite first. He said to her, “You needn’t come to the cathedral. We’ll just be standing up front until the casket is installed, go through a bit of ritual, and then come back to the palace. Afterward there will be an informal family dinner, and I’ll come get you for that. You can wear casual clothing, we’ll all be casually dressed for it.”

Elizabeth replied, “Thank you, I’ll wait for you to fetch me. Could we spend some time together tomorrow?”

“Of course. If it’s nice, we could go for a walk in the gardens.” Girls like flowers, don’t they? “The day after will be the internment though, and then the day after that I’ll be starting classes again.”

“I would enjoy seeing the gardens. I’ll expect you for dinner later then.”

Nicky walked Anne down to her suite and stopped in the empty hall. “You know I’m innocent, don’t you?” he asked quietly.

“My heart says you are, but I can’t quite convince my head, Nicky. But you’re my brother and I love you, so just behave, and everything will be fine.”

He gave her a little grin with a shadow of his impishness in it. “When have I ever behaved?”

“You know what I mean. We’ll be in the second carriage with Eugenie and Arthur, don’t be late.”

“Yes ma’am, Princess Anne, ma’am,” Nicky replied, standing at attention, mocking his uniform. He apparently was a colonel now, although he thought Anglia would be in big trouble if he ever had to act as one.

Prince Nicky went to his suite, shifting mental gears as he reached his door. He had questions for Winkershime, but his suite was empty. Even the valet’s little cubbyhole of a room was unoccupied. He carefully took off his uniform and hung it up; he would need it again in a few hours. He found some covered dishes of snacks on the sideboard and trolled through them in just his underwear.

Then he sighed and went to put on a robe, but no slippers. He wasn’t going to knuckle under completely to his valet, or spy, or whatever Winkershime was. Besides, there were carpets and rugs all over the floor. It wasn’t like his feet were going to get cold in his socks.

He picked up his math book and looked at it, but put it back down again. Where was the man? He had a lot of questions, like how many spies did Anglia have? Where were they? What were they doing? What had they found out that he didn’t know? And a lot more.

Tomorrow he would talk to his tutors as well. He could drop Drusian, he spoke it well enough, and his instructor was resorting to feeding him boring cultural lessons just as his Ibarran tutor had. And Production Trade and Money could go as well. He knew about Anglia and the major countries they dealt with, and he didn’t really need to learn what some backcountry area in Silovia produced; he could look it up if he had to. That would get him down to three classes. If he moved math to the afternoon, he would have his mornings free. Oh, and he should set up the lessons for Elizabeth too.

Winkershime returned, and Nicky nearly pounced on him. “Winkershime, come here and sit down.” The valet came over, but hesitated to sit in the prince’s presence. Nicky gestured impatiently at the chair, and the valet lowered himself gingerly to perch on the edge.

“Now, tell me everything about Anglia’s spies.”

“Your Highness, it’s not quite that simple. First, you need to understand what a spy does and how he does it so you know how to use your operatives. You need to comprehend international relationships from the perspective of the state and how important individual actors affect the international scene. It will be necessary for you to have discussions with His Majesty and the crown prince so you understand Anglia’s goals and know what you are trying to achieve and why. And finally, you must learn to perceive the difference between talk and action, stated intentions and true intentions, to learn to see through the fog to the truth while ignoring the mirrors and false images that are intended to deceive, as well as learn to use those same fog and mirrors to cloak your own intentions.”

Nicky sat back and ran a hand through his hair, messing it into wayward points. “Good,” he said softly. “In a way, that answers my questions. I see now how much I don’t know. When do we start?”

Winkershime stood up. “Right now, Your Highness. If anyone came in and saw me sitting, they would immediately be suspicious of my position in this household. You must always protect your operatives; they are your eyes, ears, and hands.”

“Point taken. My uniform should be brushed before the ride to the cathedral.”

“Of course, Prince Nicky. Is there anything else I can get you?” Winkershime asked, looking pointedly at Nicky’s slipperless feet.

“Not a thing, Winkershime.”

The valet sighed and went to brush the prince’s uniform.

Lady Elizabeth finished her letter home and gave it to Sylvie to send off. She took a walk down to the stables, pleased she was beginning to be able to find her way around by herself. The only person she saw at first was a boy mucking out an empty stall. He looked at her shyly and then put down his tools and scampered off. She stayed near the entrance, looking at some of the horses until an older man hurried up.

“My lady, is there something you were wanting? A carriage, perhaps?” he asked, bowing and only partly straightening up.

“I’m Lady Elizabeth, and actually, I’d like to improve my riding skills. Is there a gentle animal I could use with some regularity for that?”

The man eyed her dress. “Sidesaddle?”

“Do the ladies usually ride sidesaddle?”

“No, most ride astride, but beggin’ your pardon, not dressed like that, Your Ladyship.”

Elizabeth smiled at him. “I’m not going out now. I’d like to have a horse ready for me every morning very early starting in a few days. I’ll send word when I’m ready to begin.”

“That will be fine, Lady. I have a nice tall gelding that could use a bit more exercise, and he’s a fine gentleman, he is. Just send word to me, Mac, and I’ll have him ready for you any morning you please. Will you be wanting someone to go with you?”

“Is there someone who could give me lessons?”

“Well, Your Ladyship, any of the exercise boys could show you, but mostly they’re a rough lot. Benji though, he’s a nice boy. I could have him go along if you want. I don’t have no riding master to send though, just the boys.”

“I’m sure Benji will do. Thank you, Mac.”

“My pleasure, Lady Elizabeth.” He bowed some more, and she went back to her room. Now she had another outfit to add to her shopping list. And she should ask Anne about what to wear to Arms class. She might need something she could move around in better than petticoats for her lessons there as well.

She changed into one of her unaltered dresses from home. Odd, a few weeks ago she thought her new wardrobe was the epitome of fashion, and now everything she had bought seemed so frumpish. Still, a simple dress with half the usual number of petticoats should do for a casual dinner with the royal family.

She had been reading for hours and was beginning to think Nick had forgotten about her when he finally rapped at her door. He was wearing a suit, but with the jacket unbuttoned, the shirt open at the neck, and no scarf. He just walked beside her rather than offer his arm.

The dinner was in a smaller dining room at a table that held twelve comfortably. No one announced the king; he just came in and sat at the head of the table, while the queen sat at the foot. Giselle didn’t come, but everyone else just sat where they pleased and helped themselves to platters of food. The conversation was in Anglian for a change so Elizabeth understood what was said, but had little to say herself since it was mostly about memories of Albert and people she didn’t know.

Afterward Nick walked with her back to her suite. She invited him in, and he hesitated at first, but agreed when she reminded him that her maid could chaperone them. She offered him wine, and he accepted, and they sat and sipped while Sylvie beamed at them from her chair.

Elizabeth asked, “Are you all right, Nick?”

He nodded and said, “Yeah. I’m going to miss Albert. I always thought when we were both independent adults that he and I would be best friends. And Anglia really, really needed Richard. I don’t know who will replace him as Warleader. Actually, no one can replace him, but the king will have to choose someone anyway.”

“Who would you choose?” Elizabeth asked.

“I don’t know, and for once I am very glad to be the junior prince and not have to get involved in a decision that important.”

“If we were at war, I can see how important the choice of Warleader would be, but we’re not. Isn’t the position mostly administrative during peacetime?”

“It’s not what the Warleader does, but who he is that counts during peace. With Richard, no country would attack us without long, hard consideration no matter how big their army or how many sorcerers they had to throw at us. I don’t know anyone else who is that kind of deterrent.”

“Sorcerers? I don’t believe magic is real, or that we have to worry about invading armies with magic. Surely you don’t believe in such things?”

Nick sipped his wine thoughtfully. He wasn’t about to reveal his own abilities to Lady Elizabeth and her maid. He didn’t know them very well or trust them with his secrets. “I understand your point of view, it’s pretty common these days. It’s been what, seventy or eighty years since we were at war, and with the way people with magical talents have been exterminated here, almost no living Anglian has ever seen real magic unless they have traveled abroad. But I assure you it is real. Just ask anyone who has lived in Franck or Ibarra for any length of time.”

“They both have people who can do real magic?”

“Yes, although in some ways they are opposites. Ibarra ignores people with weak magical ability; there are hedge witches in every other hamlet. But anyone who threatens to become powerful is executed. No challenging the monarchy, right? Franck, on the other hand, has a few very powerful people, all in the nobility. Those with just a little ability have it burned out of them by the sorcerers somehow, and any peasants that might become powerful are executed. The few strong magicians support the regime because the monarchy ensures they are rich, respected, and very well treated, and in turn the sorcerers are expected to protect and serve the king. We’re more egalitarian, we just execute everybody, and we’ve been doing it so long magical talent just doesn’t crop up here very often. That’s partly why most people in Anglia don’t even believe in magic because almost always people who are accused of it here are really incapable of it.”

“How do you know all that?”

“Oh, from Richard, from my language tutors, and from our ambassadors who have come back from other countries. Growing up in the palace, I know every spot to linger to overhear interesting private conversations.” Nick gave her a grin and finished his wine. It was good, and it was making him feel better.

“That’s very interesting. Would you like some more wine?” Nick held out his glass, and she refilled it and said, “I have something to show you, wait just a moment.”

Elizabeth went into her bedroom and returned with the small book of magic. “I found this in the library, and I’ve read it. I can’t believe that you’re telling me that this sort of thing really works. It’s all just obscure references and meaningless babble.”

Nick took the book, amazed that she had found such a thing in the palace. He opened it and paged through it a little and then closed it. “It’s hard to believe that you found this in the library. All these sorts of books were supposed to have been destroyed.” He slipped it into his pocket and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. But don’t mention it to anyone. You could get in trouble for just having it, much less reading it. And it would be embarrassing if anyone found out it was here in the palace for years.”

“Of course, there’s no reason to talk about it at all.” Elizabeth turned to her maid and said, “Is there, Sylvie?”

“Oh no, m’lady, I don’t know anything about such things, and I never saw a book about magic, I’m quite sure,” Sylvie said very seriously. Elizabeth believed in her sincerity, and since the young maid hadn’t gossiped at all to her about Anne, she thought Sylvie could be relied on.

Nick smiled at both of them. He really wanted to go to his room and read the book immediately. He had a lot more power since the last visit of his mother, but he was not doing very well figuring out how to use it. His attempts to duplicate the glowing picture trick had resulted in him turning a lot of expensive paper into ashes. The book either might be meaningless magical fantasies, or it might be exactly what he needed to get control of his abilities. He sipped his wine a little faster.

“Nick, do you have any idea when we’ll be going on our Progress? And what exactly is it? No one has explained anything to me.” And here’s a chance for you to give me another lecture, but I do need to know.

“There will be a thirty-day mourning period for Albert, and then the next month is the Midsummer Festival, so probably after that. They put us in a carriage with a big military escort and supply wagons. It’s practically a parade. We go around the country and visit the High Nobility, the nine earls and dukes who are the king’s Councilors, in their homes. We also stop at other noble houses. Among the lesser nobility, it’s all politics as far as where we go.”

“We don’t get any choice? I’d like to see my family.”

“You’re my fiancée, your family is in good standing, so I’m sure we’ll visit them. Besides, I want to meet them, you’ve met mine, and fair is fair.” And I can see if your family is as crazy as mine. Nick held out his glass for more wine, and Elizabeth dutifully filled it again. He usually just had one glass with dinner, but he was enjoying the taste of this vintage, and he didn’t have class tomorrow.

“Good. I imagine both my brothers will have grown by then. Charlie just turned eleven, and Jamie may well be thirteen by the time we get there.”

“Oh. When is your birthday, Elizabeth? Mine is November first, and I’ll finally turn sixteen and be an adult.”

“Mine is coming up actually. I’ll be nineteen the third of June. Does it bother you that I’m older than you?”

“Not a bit. I could have been saddled with someone who is thirty, or even three, and still done my duty. It bothers you though, that I’m younger, doesn’t it?” Might as well get it out in the open.

Elizabeth took a long sip of wine before she answered. She was still on her first glass. “Yes, it did at first. I had in my head an image of what I wanted my husband to look like, and you didn’t match it. But I realize that the image was just a fantasy, and I’ve adjusted to reality now. I’m not unhappy to be marrying you, Nick.” Although I’m not particularly happy either—at least, not yet.

“Good, you’d be a little crazy to be unhappy that your duty requires you to marry a prince. And from the way the ladies of the court look at me, I’d say you’re getting quite a catch.” Nick tossed back the rest of his wine.

Why, you conceited little… “I’m sure we’re both pleased to do our duty in this case,” Elizabeth said neutrally.

Nick just shrugged, stood up, and said, “I would think you’d be eshpeciall…especially pleased considering all the money you and your family are getting. I hope you’re worsh…worth it. I’m feeling tired now, so good night.”

Elizabeth and Sylvie both stood too, Sylvie going to the door to open it for the prince and Elizabeth more in outrage than for the sake of manners. Nick weaved a bit, but made it out the door. Sylvie didn’t quite slam it behind him, but she did close the door very firmly.

Elizabeth said, “Well, good night to you too, Your Egotistical Drunken Highness!” She went to her bedroom and closed the door. She wanted to slam it, but there wasn’t any point since Nick was already gone.

She sat down angrily on the bed and picked up her doll. “I swear, Betsy, I don’t know whether I should spank him or wait until our wedding night and just kick him where it hurts men the most. If that insulting little brat doesn’t grow up fast, he might not make it to sixteen.”

She said more calmly, “We were having such a nice conversation…well, he was lecturing again, but it was still rather nice, and then he just turned into a conceited troll. I wonder if he gets drunk often.”

Elizabeth put Betsy down. “You’re right, he just lost his cousin, and he’s worried about his brother. I shouldn’t judge him so harshly, no matter how obnoxious he was being. But I have to marry him, and the question remains, when I do marry him, what in the world am I going to do with him?”

When Nicky got to his suite, Winkershime was waiting for him. Although his valet didn’t frown at all, Nicky instantly could tell that Winkershime wasn’t happy to see him. He was hustled into his bedroom, his clothes stripped off, and he was put into a nightshirt he couldn’t remember ever seeing before, all without a word.

“Winkershime, Winky, are you mad at me?” the prince asked plaintively.

“Winkershime, Your Highness, please. Here drink this.” Winkershime handed him a glass of odd-tasting water, but Nicky didn’t want his valet spy to be mad, so he drank it. Winkershime got him into bed, put out the lamp, and left his young master to sleep it off.

Winkershime went out into the sitting room and said, “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is Anglia’s new Spymaster. Lord, help us.”