Chapter 29 | The Queen Who Ruled by Herself

Impertinence and Propriety

So, my lady," said Brinnid in a low voice once they were seated. "Am I still impertinent, d'you think?"

Sedra fought against a blush. "The word I used was 'improper,' not 'impertinent.' And would you not consider that an impertinent question, sir?" she answered in an equally low tone.

"So the answer is 'yes,' then," he smiled.

Sedra coolly removed her gloves to eat. She would have pointedly turned to the Sairish noble on her right, but she hadn't caught the man's name and feared bungling it. She took a quick sip of wine for courage and turned back to Brinnid, smiling smoothly. "How do you find the capital, seeing it as you are for the first time today?"

"I find it a noble and charming city, my lady, but not half so much as its Princess Royal," said Brinnid solemnly.

"It's true, then."

"What is, ma'am?"

"One of your nobles, a certain Earl of Maccal, told me at the last ball of the year that the Sairish were prone to flattery."

Brinnid considered. "I believe what he may have said, knowing Maccal, was that we are prone to poetics, but any compliment paid to you, my lady, would be neither poesy nor flattery but the gods' own truth."

"I wonder at the compliment his lordship paid me in dancing with me."

"Oh?" said Brinnid, curious. He waited for the footman to place the shallow bowl of consommé flecked with green onions before him and then leaned in again. "Which compliment was that?"

"A rather back-handed one regarding my intelligence."

Brinnid sat back and studied her as she sipped delicately at her soup. "Teacher told me--"

"I should hardly put stock in what my brother's tutor told you about me," she said sharply to the roll in her hand.

"Your brother's tutor, ma'am?" laughed Brinnid. "That's how you think of your father's chief counsel?"

"My brother's tutor is all Teacher has ever been to me." In spite of herself, Sedra added, "What did he say?"

Brinnid studied her until she flushed. "He said you were a thoughtful woman, not a giddy girl. Would you say that's an accurate description, your highness, or have I been misled, d'you think?"

Sedra composed her answer carefully. "I would say that I am not likely to be described accurately in any respect by someone who knows me as little as the Teacher." With that she addressed herself to the plate put before her, and hazarded making small talk with the Sairish lord to her right, whose name she guessed correctly.

Brinnid watched her from the corner of his eye as he passed the dinner talking with Harsin. On the one hand, he'd been rebuffed. On the other hand, he was fairly sure he'd learned who his competition for the princess's heart was, and he was fairly sure he could make her forget that competition entirely. He took up his wine and downed it.

"Are you feeling well, brother?" said Harsin.

"Brother king, I have never felt better in all my days," grinned Brinnid.

The next morning Temmin was ready and eager for his lesson, or would have been if he'd been awake. "Let me sleep in tomorrow," he'd told Jenks, "I'm so, so tired and now this blasted reception--I need to sleep more than I need to ride." And so when lesson time came around, he awoke to find the Teacher sitting on the edge of his bed, cane in hand.

"Oh, no, you can't be serious!" groaned Temmin. "Jenks didn't wake me up!"

"Should I cane him, then?" said the Teacher, rising as if to find the valet.

"No, no, of course not!" said Temmin hastily. "I told him not to, but I didn't expect he'd let me sleep this late!"

"Take your punishment." Temmin slid reluctantly out of bed and assumed the position. Three strokes later he was red-faced and trying hard not to cry. "I will leave you here to collect yourself," said the Teacher, striding into the study and passing Jenks in the doorway.

Jenks kept himself busy in the room until Temmin had rearranged his nightshirt and blinked away the stinging in his eyes. "Really, Jenks, you might have woken me," said Temmin once he'd found his voice.

"I'm very sorry, sir," the valet replied as he opened the curtains to let the bright spring morning light into the room. "You said you wished to sleep in and I took you at your word. Here is a basin of hot water to wash quickly in, sir. I shall go fetch your clothing." Temmin watched his retreating back, wondering what had gotten into the man who'd been ordering him around almost as long as he could remember.

Once dressed, he found the Teacher perched as usual on the library table, by the now-familiar red book. Coffee, toast, marmalade, eggs and bacon waited on the table, and Jenks was already nowhere to be seen. He wolfed down his breakfast while the Teacher's fingers tapped an impatient rhythm on the table top.

"What if anything did you learn from your caning this morning?" said the Teacher when Temmin finally wiped his mouth and pushed the plate away.

"Ehm--to be more specific about when I wish to be woken up?" guessed the prince.

The Teacher's eyes rolled. "That's one interpretation. The one I'm hoping you take to heart is that you are responsible. Not your underlings. You. If those taking your orders fail to carry out your wishes, for whatever reason, in the end you are responsible, especially if your wishes are not specific enough or you have chosen to trust the wrong people. That is the price of power, your highness. Now. Are you ready to continue? Do you even remember what we were talking about?"

"Of course I do," said Temmin in irritation. "It's only been, what, three days?"

"It's been nearly a week. Very well, where were we?"

"Ilhovin the Peacemaker and the Sairish princess Macca just got married." Temmin blushed, remembering the intensity of his ancestors' wedding night.

"Just so." The Teacher waited as Temmin pulled the old red leather-bound book to him and opened it.

"Somehow I don't think Princess Macca was much at playing docile," said Temmin as he came out of the book.

"Don't underestimate her as Belleth did. Macca was a woman who could do anything she put her mind to, as you will see. Now it is luncheon; we got a late start. Your sister could use your support, for Brinnid is to dine with the family in private today. I believe his personal cook is presiding in the kitchens for the meal."

"Really!" said Temmin, rising from his seat. "Well! I wonder what Sairish fare is like!"

"I'm sure I don't know," said the Teacher. "I shall see you afterwards and you can tell me all about it." And, slipping from the table top perch, the Teacher strode through the door.

Jenks came in a moment later and walked straight into the bedchamber. "Off with your clothes, your highness, you need a bath," he called.

"I thought you said these sorts of things were up to me now!" said Temmin.

Jenks paused. "Very well, sir. Do you think you need a bath?"

Temmin considered, rubbing the stubble on his cheeks. "Yes, I s'pose I do. Carry on, Jenks! I have a date with a Sairish chef!"