Pigsty Princess Read online

  “What do we want?” the man asked. “How about the return of our brothers from the filthy prisons in Heyton? Can you arrange that, Your Majesty?”

  The Queen sat up straighter. “I prefer to keep out of politics.”

  “That’s nice and convenient, isn’t it? Too bad the women of the Port of Clearlea who died in the fire didn’t have the option of staying out of politics.”

  “So this is in retaliation for a battle fought four years ago?” The Queen’s expression grew angry. “Did you have a wife or mistress killed in the fire?”

  “I’m not here to exchange personal histories. We’ll just take the gold and jewels and be on our way.”

  “You will hang for this.”

  The man leaned his head into the carriage, getting closer to the Queen while resting his forearms on the window ledge. His face was hidden behind a black cloth pulled around his head just above his nose, but his dark eyes narrowed and sparked with intensity.

  “Maybe,” he said, “but not today.”

  An instant later, a crash and a scream came from somewhere near the front in the caravan.

  “That was Liliana,” the Queen cried. She turned to the bandit, who still held the carriage door closed, and touched his hand. “Please don’t hurt my daughter.”

  “Did the King hear those words at the port that day four years ago?”

  “The incident at Clearlea was unfortunate.” Queen Alexandria took a deep breath. “There are regrettable losses in war, but this is not war. You will be held accountable for your actions.”

  “Maybe it isn’t war for you, Your Majesty. I think my men would disagree with you. The time for regret is past. The King won’t take the action required, so we will.”

  Before the Queen responded, another cry came from Liliana’s carriage.

  “You Element-forsaken worm.” The Queen shoved the door, trying to exit the carriage. “You said your men wouldn’t hurt my daughter.”

  “What’s going on?” he called to someone out of Mariana’s sight.

  “The Princess didn’t want to give up her bonding ring,” another man responded.

  The Queen glared at their captor. “If anything happens to my daughter or her baby, I will see you hang.”

  “So you said.”

  “Why do you need my daughter’s bonding ring?”

  “Your Majesty,” he said after a moment, “if I can have your word neither you nor the Princesses will leave this carriage, I will get the ring back.”

  The Queen tilted her head in a gesture of respect. “You have my word.”

  The man left the window, and Ursula stood, reaching for the door handle.

  “Sit down.” The Queen’s voice held no opportunity for argument.

  Ursula's eyes turned the deep forest green that indicated she was scared and surprised.

  “Why, Mother? It’s our chance to escape and get to Father.”

  “I gave my word. Sit down.”

  “What difference does that make? He’s a bandit. We don’t need to be honorable with the dishonorable.”

  “No, you’re wrong.”

  Ursula sat, but Mariana knew it was more out of shock than comprehension.

  “You must understand this, Ursula. We are the royal family, and the people look to us as role models. If we don’t keep our word to those who are less honorable than we are, what good is our word to anyone?”

  “So, we just sit here?” Ursula asked.

  “Yes, my daughter. Possibly you could practice a sense of serenity.”

  Ursula rolled her eyes, but she sat back and folded her hands in her lap.

  “Do you think he’ll get Liliana’s ring back?” Mariana asked after the three of them sat silently for a few seconds.

  The Queen took a deep breath and let it out slowly before she responded. “I believe he will. He wasn’t completely heartless. I truly think the idea of Lily losing her bonding ring bothered him, especially with her pregnancy.”

  “You felt his emotions?” Ursula asked expectantly. Mariana’s sister was still learning about her Air Sensitivity, which had only manifested a year before, and she often talked to the Queen about what she could do with it.

  “Not exactly. I did, however, feel a strong compassion in him.”

  Ursula furrowed her brow and sat back on the bench.

  A moment later, the man returned. “I returned the Royal Princess’s ring. I’m sorry to have separated her from the symbol of her love, even briefly.”

  “I would be more forgiving if this raid had never taken place at all.”

  “There are families who will be warm and well fed this winter because of your contribution to our cause. The people thank you and yours.”

  With that, he disappeared from their sight. A moment later, Mariana heard several horses gallop away.

  Ursula burst out of the carriage. The Queen and Mariana hurried after her.

  The rest of the conveyances were still upright, and the animals appeared uninjured. The luggage had been removed from the two cargo wagons and arranged on the ground.

  Several of the bags were open and their contents spread on the grass. However, from what Mariana could see, none of their clothing or personal items had been damaged.

  Mariana had brought three suitcases in varying sizes and two trunks that held her gowns for holiday parties and balls. She hurried to where they were sitting. A quick inspection showed her everything was fine.

  “Is anyone hurt?” the Queen asked. She went to Liliana’s carriage, where the Royal Regent Nigel was holding his wife as she cried quietly. “Nigel?”

  “She’s fine, Your Majesty,” Liliana’s husband said. “The whole thing was just a little frightening, and she is emotional.”

  “Pregnancy will do that to you.” The Queen hugged her daughter. “Will you be able to replace the veil?”

  Liliana shuddered once. “I can try, but isn’t it too late as the rebels already know we’re on the road?”

  Raising an eyebrow, the Queen replied, “These may not be the only bandits we have to worry about. Do your best, dear. You can sleep when we get to Byspell.”

  Chapter Three

  The night after the bandits’ attack, King Jonathan sat in front of the fireplace in his library on the third floor of the Byspell Palace. His most trusted advisor, his cousin Thibault, sat on the other side of a low table that held a silver tray with a decanter of brandy and two glasses.

  “We have to do something,” the King said, staring at the flames. “The rebels are getting bolder. They took the chest of Sensitivity Stones from my wife’s caravan yesterday. The only ones left are in the crown at the Aldlake palace. Without the Fire Stones, someone could find out about my condition.”

  “Yes, sire. There are already rumors among the people.” Thibault eyed the amber-colored liquid in his glass. “It has been some time since you were seen using your Sensitivities in public.”

  Jonathan refilled his glass and drank it in one swallow. “How do we stop the rumors?”

  Thibault took a deep breath. “Well, to begin with, it would help if you could show a bit of strength. Perhaps an arrest in connection with the attack. If the people see you cracking down on the rebels, they would stop speculating on your Abilities. At least for a time.”

  “They need something else to entertain them.”

  “A public execution could occupy the people’s attention. Arrest someone, and let the people know you found the person who attacked the caravan.”

  Jonathan regarded his friend. “A show of power.”

  Thibault tilted his head in agreement. “‘He who has the power shall rule.’”

  “The first law of Valborough.” The King stared at the fire. Could the same words that threatened to end his reign be used to his advantage?

  Five years ago, Jonathan’s Sensitivities had begun to disappear. Simple spells went awry or sometimes didn’t work at all.

  At first, he was the only one who noticed and was able to shrug it off as a fluke or
the result of fatigue.

  When it continued unabated, he couldn’t lie to himself anymore. His magical Abilities were slipping away.

  Eventually, Alexandria had noticed his problem and had taken it upon herself to supplement his magic where she could. They didn’t have the same Sensitivities, but their bonding had given her enough familiarity with his skills to help out.

  It was getting harder and harder for him to keep his subjects from knowing about the loss of his powers. Only a few people in the palace knew the truth. He couldn’t risk anyone outside his inner circle knowing. Not even his own children.

  Alexandria’s help had become less a crutch and more a necessity, requiring him to make some concessions to her in return. The Battle of Clearlea was one concession he’d never expected, and the attack on the caravan showed that incident still wasn’t behind him.

  Jonathan shook his head to clear it of bad memories. “I trust you will find a suitable candidate to take the blame for the attack.”

  Thibault bowed. “I have my men bringing in a few suspects already.”

  “Good man.”

  After a few moments, when only the crackling of the fire could be heard, Thibault cleared his throat.

  “We still have the problem of how the rebels found the caravan in the first place, sire. Perhaps the Royal Princess Liliana’s veil around the wagons wasn’t as strong as—” His voice trailed off.

  “Alexandria said the leader of the bandits wore a chain of Chaos Stones. That could be how they saw through the veil.”

  Thibault raised an eyebrow. “This is an interesting development. Where do you think the rebels could have gotten hold of them?”

  The King shook his head. “I sent riders throughout the kingdom searching for them after Mariana’s testing with Kylan. None were found anywhere in Valborough.”

  “Or at least that’s what you were told.”

  “Indeed.” Jonathan sighed. “However, it’s not relevant now. Chaos Stones generally don’t work over a distance farther than two or three arms’ lengths. They don’t explain how the rebels found the caravan in the first place.”

  “Perhaps the veil was weakened by the terrain?”

  “No, Liliana and Nigel were well briefed and prepared. It had to be Mariana.”

  Thibault was the Child of the Elements, a son sired out of wedlock by Jonathan's uncle, Protector-Imperator Andrew Weston, brother of the previous king. As a Flora and Fire Sensitive, Thibault had been recognized by his father and given the title of Amar, the nephew of a King. Thibault lived much of his life as a resident of the palace.

  He and Jonathan had grown up together and were more than just cousins. They were best friends, and Thib was the only one besides his wife who could speak so openly with him.

  “If the Progenna did affect the veil, it was unintentional. Without training, it will happen again,” the Amar said. “She is going to be a problem. With all due respect, training would have prevented this.”

  Jonathan shook his head. “With training, it would become clear to everyone she is more powerful than I am. The last time a Chaos Sensitive ruled Valborough, the people saw their longest time of prosperity. How long do you think it would be before the people demanded she take the throne?”

  Thib said nothing.

  Over the last year, Mariana’s abilities had begun to leak out from time to time, but fortunately, there had always been another explanation for whatever happened. However, that wouldn’t always be the case. Alexandria was putting pressure on her husband to get her bonded to someone whose abilities would dampen and control her, without either of them even being aware of it.

  After a moment, Thibault said, “Perhaps it’s time to find a husband for the Progenna. A Blood or Water Sensitive could control her abilities. If he was strong enough, she would never learn what she is.”

  “A Water Sensitive couldn’t truly control her. He could only mute whatever she tried to do.”

  Thib nodded. “A Blood Sensitive would recognize immediately what she is. Unless the man was a complete fool or blindingly loyal to you, he’d know how to use her to gain the throne.”

  “That Sensitivity is rare. In fact, I only know of one. Kylan.” The two men exchanged glances.

  “We both know he doesn’t want the throne,” Thibault said.

  The King sighed. “He is strong enough to control her, and he only has the one ability. However, I don’t trust him. He might not want the throne for himself, but would he be loyal enough to me to keep her abilities secret?”

  “He serves at the pleasure of the crown.”

  “Does he?”

  Kylan was not as solidly the King’s ally as Thibault thought. For the moment, he’d been content to keep his mouth shut about what he knew about Mariana’s abilities and origins. However, Jonathan had no idea how long that would be the case.

  If her power became common knowledge, she’d be swept into the throne room on a wave of rebel goodwill, and Jonathan would be put to death. Kylan could make that happen if it pleased him.

  “He could decide the throne looks more comfortable than where he sits now.” Jonathan paced the library, his thoughts consumed by the problem of Mariana and her uncontrolled abilities.

  “The Twins of Salarctia,” Thibault muttered suggestively. “King Maurice had a similar problem, and it was handled with one building collapse.”

  “Surely, you’re not suggesting the Progenna meet with an unfortunate accident.” The King met Thibault’s eyes, and for a moment, Jonathan wondered what his cousin was capable of. A wave of uncertainty and fear washed over him.

  “Of course not, sire. I only mention this because your esteemed ancestor faced a similar situation with his grandsons each wielding more Elemental power than he or their parents. The people were about to force Maurice off the throne. The accident happened at an advantageous time for him.”

  “But not for the boys.” Jonathan shook his head. “They were only eleven years old.”

  “And King Maurice reigned for another sixteen years,” Thibault said. “The tragedy made his subjects love him even more. They saw how he grieved for his grandsons until the day he died. He had the hearts of the people.”

  He gazed at the fire. “The people love Mariana. If something…unfortunate were to happen to her, you and Alexandria would observe a year of mourning, during which time no one would dare suggest a change in leadership.”

  “She’s my daughter, Thib. My child. What you are suggesting is out of the question.”

  “Forgive me, sire. I only thought if you were concerned about losing your hold on the throne…”

  “This conversation is over, and we will never mention it again.”

  “Of course not, sire.” Thibault dropped his gaze to the floor.

  Jonathan took a deep breath. “That still leaves us with the question of who could be Mariana’s husband.”

  “There is an option we haven’t considered,” Thibault said, glancing out the window. “She could marry an Insensitive. Pir Leo has been losing his power for some time. His servants tell me he can’t light a candle or heat his own coffee anymore.”

  The King rubbed the bridge of his nose. “The Queen wants me to choose him, you know.”

  “I didn’t, sire, but surely that’s not a reason to discount him.”

  “I don’t discount him, Thib, but Mariana is my daughter, and he’s much too old for her. I do want her to be happy, but not at the expense of the crown.”

  “On the bright side,” Thibault said, “he may die before too long and leave Mariana with more than enough wealth to take care of herself.”

  Jonathan sighed. “I suppose there are worse choices for her.”

  “Sire, I believe Pir Leo would make an excellent husband for the Progenna.” He bowed. “I will approach him with your offer.”

  “See what you can do about finding the men who attacked the caravan, as well.”

  “As you wish.”

  ****

  Thibault left the pa
lace through a secret tunnel that led from the King’s library to an abandoned stable on the hunting grounds. He didn’t actually live there, but when the royal family was in residence, he tended to stay close to the King but hidden away enough to be able to do what he needed to do without any interference.

  When he arrived in his room and closed the heavy stone door, he knew no one would be able to see the crack that marked the opening. King Jonathan had used his Metal Sensitivity to conceal it.

  That was before his Sensitivities began to fail due to age. One day, Jonathan’s secret would be impossible to hide anymore, and he would have to leave the throne.

  Jonathan was his cousin as well as his friend, but for the last few years, Thibault wasn’t totally sure he was a good King. Or at least, not the King he used to be.

  Like the loss of his powers, Jonathan’s change had been gradual. If he didn’t know better, Thibault would think the King was afraid, although what could scare him was a mystery.

  The Amar waved his hand and lit the candles around the room and the fire in the hearth. Questions about possible reasons for the King’s behavior had to be put aside. He had been given two assignments, and it was his duty to fulfill them.

  A large cage hung from the ceiling, covered by a black cloth heavily embroidered with stylized silver knives surrounded by red flames. The cloth had been created by Thibault’s mistress, a widow who had lived in Talla a few years ago, as a gift for the King on his birthday. However, before she could give it to him, Jonathan had had her son executed.

  The young man had been among a group of rebels who’d attacked the King’s smokehouse, stealing eight dozen hams and over a hundred turkeys, pheasants, and ducks. He was the only one who’d actually gotten caught because he’d fallen and twisted his knee. His cohorts had left him behind, allowing the King’s Guard to find him lying in the road, moaning in pain.

  Thibault had tried to convince the King to show the boy mercy, but as the food had been designated for the anniversary of Jonathan’s coronation, someone had to pay for the inconvenience, and the thief had been beheaded publicly.