Short Story #2
“You live here in the village too, Miss Maeve?” asked the princess.
“I do,” Maeve confirmed, her smile so wide it had to cover Kiri’s bad joke.
“There are already so many human and otherly couples,” said the princess. “It’s nice to see it’s not just Lady Aislinn and Hakon.”
“They and my sister Sorcha are setting the trend,” Maeve agreed. “It’s been lovely to see the area growing. Briseis has been doing remarkable work as mayor.”
The subject skillfully redirected, attention and praise were heaped on a blushing Miss Briseis.
As they stood listening to Lady Aislinn and Miss Briseis discuss how the village was growing, Kiri glanced again at the princess.
She seemed to be listening, but when Kiri looked down at her hands, folded in front of her, he realized she was picking at the cuticle of one thumb with the other.
In fact, the nails on both hands were quite short, a few even pink around the beds, as though she nibbled at them often.
For some reason, Kiri liked knowing that the princess bit her nails.
When he next looked up, it was to find a tall, imposing man looming behind the princess. Older, with a graying beard and temples, the man’s steely gaze fixed on Kiri, as though daring him to think something unkind about the princess.
His gaze skittered away, and it was because he was looking at Princess Isolde again that he saw her expression change when Lady Aislinn said, “We’re delighted for a tour of the school. Then I think Baron Burgoyne hoped we’d stop in for a late lunch.”
The women moved to climb the few steps up into the schoolhouse, and though the princess moved to dutifully follow them, Kiri didn’t miss the flash of disappointment that overcame her face. Did the princess actually not want to leave?
“Uhm…” Several heads turned his way at his unplanned noise. “We could show the princess how to play duck-ball.”
At least a dozen sets of eyes blinked owlishly at his suggestion.
Soren pulled his tail again.
“Oh, ahh…” Maeve looked uncertainly between Lady Aislinn and Miss Briseis.
A sucking panic engulfed them as the women shared frantic expressions.
In the midst of this, Princess Isolde said, “I’d like that very much.”
That was how they all found themselves playing a favorite game at their school, duck-ball—so called because you ducked when the kicker kicked it high and then ran to retrieve it before they could make it round the posts—with the Crown Princess of Eirea.
She caught on quick and proved to be a strong kicker, sending the ball flying.
Princess Isolde hurried around the posts, not even bothering to hold her skirts, and proved a quick runner, too.
Her ladies-in-waiting cheered from the sidelines as her guards looked on gravely.
Soren, Maeve, and Briseis didn’t seem to know what to make of it, and Lady Aislinn was deep in conversation with her husband about something.
It turned into a fun afternoon, and after their game, Kiri suggested Princess Isolde might like to go on a nature walk.
The adults descended into debate over it for a long while, so long that the younger children began to amuse themselves or wander off.
Touching the princess’s arm, he nodded at the trees. “There’s a nice waterfall not far back, if you want to see,” he whispered.
The princess smiled. “All right.”
They slipped away from the group of arguing adults, catching the little path that led into the forest.
Kiri couldn’t say why exactly he felt compelled to show the princess a good time.
When he thought about it, he supposed he’d rather play duck-ball and see a waterfall than have luncheon at some stuffy baron’s estate.
And he didn’t think he was wrong to suspect Princess Isolde preferred that, too, if her wide smile was anything to go by.
As they walked, Kiri said, “I’m Kiri, by the way.”
“Yes, you introduced yourself already,” the princess quipped.
“I know,” he laughed, “but my full name is Kiriken. You can just call me Kiri.”
“All right. Then you can just call me Isolde.”
“Hmm, not Izzy?”
Isolde stopped in her tracks to make a face. “Absolutely not. That’s what my cousin calls me, and I loathe him.”
He raised his hands in defeat. “All right, Isolde it is.”
“Thank you, Kiri.”
He grinned cheekily, leading her further down the path.
The forest wasn’t too dark back here, the trees not too tightly packed. A lot of people came back this way to go to the pool and see the waterfall, so much of the underbrush had been cleared away.
As they walked, he picked up a stray thing to show her, like especially large pinecones or dark berries perfect for popping in the mouth.
“How is it you and your brothers came to be here in the Darrowlands?” asked Isolde.
He’d gotten that question a lot, so it was an easy enough answer. “The erēz—the leader of our pride wasn’t kind. She banished Soren and so the rest of us went with him. We traveled for a long time, years, until we found this place.”
Isolde’s brows lifted in surprise. “So you really are from the southern savannahs?”
“Yes.”
“That’s even farther than Pyrros.”
“We walked through there to get to Eirea. I remember seeing the volcano.”
Isolde’s eyes were wide with wonder, and Kiri stood a little taller knowing he’d impressed a princess.
“That sounds nothing like Gleanná,” she said. “There are so many buildings there. We have a few parks, but everything is manicured. Nothing like this.” She gestured at the trees and rocks they walked past.
Her tone seemed…sad as she spoke of her home.
Even though she lived in a great big castle, surrounded by servants who saw to her every need, Kiri got the impression that her home was lonely.
Wild as it was to think it, he thought he understood; there’d been times, when he was small and they still lived in the pride, that he felt alone although surrounded by people.
His lame leg had marked him as different, often a death sentence on the savannah, and so his younger years had been lonesome.
His heart ached to hear her speak of a home she didn’t seem to love.
“If you dislike Gleanná, why don’t you live somewhere else?” That’s what Kiri and his brothers had done. In hard times, it was common for male mantii to leave their prides in search of new ones.
“Would that I could,” she muttered, then, louder, “My mother’s there, so it’s not all bad.”
“Mm. Queen Ygraine sounds formidable.”
“Oh, she is.” A fond smile touched the princess’s lips. “Eirea wouldn’t have any enemies to speak of if she’d been blessed with a heartier body.”
It was another sad thing to say, and Kiri didn’t have a response to it. He’d never known his parents well; his family was his brothers, and all of them were hale.
So he was relieved when he got to announce, “We’re here.”
Rounding a small outcropping of rocks, they found themselves before a small pool of clear water, rimmed by a stony shore.
Across the pool stood a tall rockface, its layers revealed by the stream of water that snaked down its side.
Being midsummer, the waterfall was far narrower than it was in spring.
Kiri’s ears fell flat as he realized—Kud, what a small waterfall to show a princess.
He needn’t have worried, though. Isolde made an appreciative sound, stepping closer to the water and kneeling to peer at her reflection.
“This place is beautiful,” she said softly.
Smiling in relief, Kiri came to squat beside her.
For a little while, they knelt by the water, listening to the waterfall as well as the birds flitting between trees. It was a serene place, the pool reflecting a patch of sky as clouds lazily floated overhead.
Peeking at her from the corner of his eye, Kiri grinned to himself to see her smiling. By the water, her eyes were far bluer, and her hair seemed almost like copper. The ribbon that’d tied it back had come loose during the game, and his paws twitched to push an errant lock of hair behind her ear.
Instead, Kiri sucked in a breath.
“You’re not what I imagined a princess would be like,” he found himself saying.
“Well, you’re not what I thought a manticore was like.”
Kiri blinked in surprise. “I’m not? How so?”
Isolde shrugged. “I was told they wore kilts. But you’re wearing trou.”
Kiri snorted with laughter. “Sorry to disappoint you! My brothers wear kilts, but I like trou.”
She shared his smile for a moment, but then it fell, along with her gaze. Isolde picked at a few slimy rocks, something clearly on her mind.
“What did you think a princess would be like?” she asked softly.
“Oh…” Clearing his throat, Kiri admitted, “All regal, I suppose. Stuck up. And probably beautiful, like Miss Maeve.”
Isolde wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Miss Maeve is very beautiful. She looks like a fairy tale.”
Kiri had thought so too for a long while. A little less so now that he’d witnessed her burping, as well as her foul mood upon just waking up.
“She can be quite mean if she wants to be,” Kiri said, his insides clenched tight to think he’d upset Isolde. “And proud. And nagging.”
“Those all sound like a princess, too,” Isolde said with a little laugh.
“She’s definitely…imperious.”
“They’re teaching you big words at that school.”
Kiri stuck out his tongue. “I’m just happy to get to use them for once. I’m the oldest in class by a league.”
“I did notice that. At least it’s not lonely.”
“I suppose.” It wasn’t really, but the more time he spent with Blaire and now Isolde, Kiri was indeed seeing the merits of being with people nearer his own age.
Scratching at his cheek, Kiri asked, “What’s school like for you in a castle?”
Isolde grinned ruefully. She told him all about her many, many tutors. Most were demanding taskmasters, determined not to fail the queen. When she was younger, some of her classes were with a few of her cousins, the children of her father’s sister.
She had nothing nice to say about the cousins, one of them probably the one who called her Izzy, if Kiri had to guess.