CHAPTER 10
Axel
S wirling his cloak for the pleasure of the dramatic appearance, Axel turned to face the way from which he had come. His gaze passed briefly over the dry stone fountain and the bare shrubs before he strode down the lane once more.
“Hiding in your room would be warmer.”
Axel didn’t bother to look at his friend, let alone pause in his pacing. Having passed the wooden bench multiple times, he knew that Tobias was sprawled across it, one hand draped across the backrest and the other lightly gripping a half-full glass of pale amber liquid. One booted foot was propped up on the bench, and he had spread his wine-red cloak over himself like a blanket.
“It is also the first place anyone would look.” Axel grabbed a handful of his cloak with his left hand and launched into the sword fight from The Tanner’s Secret , stabbing an imaginary sword at an equally-imaginary opponent before dancing back, executing a perfectly unnecessary and impractical spin, and flinging his non-existent sword up to block an overhead strike.
“But it is well known that you love the gardens,” Tobias drawled back.
“True, but our lovely gardens are quite extensive and thus easier to hide oneself in than a suite with a single entrance,” he grunted as he jumped before his foe could sweep him off his feet. “Besides, if you were a perfectly primped lady in yards of fabric and too proper to do anything so fatiguing as walking more than two hundred feet at a time, where would you try first?”
“You’re telling me the royal wing isn’t secure?”
Lunging forward, he faked left and swung right, braking his arm where a parry caught his sword. “You obviously haven’t watched some of the courtiers trying to charm my father’s guards. The guards won’t let them through, but some of them will pester me with messages until I relent and resurface.”
A twirl as his opponent attempted to flank him gave him a glimpse of his friend’s amused face. “Wouldn’t attending the party require less effort?”
“Less physical effort, perhaps,” he panted, “but more effort overall. If you are so desperate to return, feel free to meander your way back to the castle and entertain Lady Ilse for the rest of the afternoon. I’m sure she’d love the chance to fawn over ‘Dear Lord Tobias’ some more.”
Tobias took a slow sip of his drink. “I’ll pass.”
Axel grinned without removing his focus from the blocking. “Somehow, that does not surprise me.”
With a final flourish, he liberated his opponent’s sword and stamped his foot upon it, preventing its recovery. He held the pose for a count of five before re-sheathing the sword he’d never actually drawn and resuming his circuit from one end of the lane to the other, making sure to step over the villain where he lay bound.
“I’m surprised you’re not in there singing.” Tobias paused for another sip. “Or lobbying for it, anyway.”
“The party is neither small enough nor select enough,” Axel sighed. The cold air brushed across the slightly damp back of his neck; all of his dancing around had knocked his hood off. “Besides, Father remains persuaded that I am withholding information relating to the opening night at which I failed to appear. As such, he has decided that allowing me opportunities to perform is unwise.”
“Are you?” Tobias asked, his eyes narrowed as they followed Axel.
“I already gave you an account of what occurred that night,” Axel replied. A stronger wind swept past, making him shiver, so he pulled his hood back up. “Do you not believe me?”
“You, falling for a girl that fast?” The pale young man shook his head. “Doesn’t ring true for me.”
Axel finally slowed his pace, staring off over the bushes as he remembered that night. “Oh, there was definitely a girl,” he said quietly. Lifting his right hand, he gently caressed the empty air where her cheek would be. His chest tightened at the absence. “But I doubt I’ll ever see her again.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tobias staring at him before slowly lowering his left foot to the ground and sitting up straighter. “You’re serious.”
Axel crooned to the empty air where he cupped a chin that wasn’t there, the words and melody of another song from The Tanner’s Secret coming to him without thought. “The night is almost over, The day will soon appear. Hold fast, our foe cannot touch you As long as I am here. Stay with me forever, Run from me no more. Beloved—”
“Hey, snap out of it!”
Startled, he looked up to find Tobias standing in front of him with drawn eyebrows. The ever-present glass was nowhere in sight.
“I know you like the theater, but let’s not get lost in it, hmm?” Tobias glared at him before sauntering back to the bench and draping himself across it once more. “People will think you’ve gone crazy. Your father might never let you near the theater again.”
Axel looked down at his empty hand. Perhaps he was going crazy; how else could he explain the way she filled his thoughts at inopportune moments? He’d been quite taken with her, but he understood why Tobias hadn’t believed it. Before meeting her, Axel would have laughed at the idea that he could find a young woman so irresistible so quickly. He’d always thought he had more substance than that.
Slowly letting his hand drop to his side, he wandered over to the bench. “I bow to your wisdom, my friend,” he joked with a smile, but his jaunty tone felt a little flat. “My deepest gratitude for returning me to my senses.”
Tobias leaned his head back so he could meet Axel’s eyes. “Why don’t you find her? Talk to her again?”
“There’s no point,” Axel mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and letting his shoulders hunch over. “Father would never let me marry her.”
“Why not?”
He lowered himself to sit on the cold stones of the path and propped his chin on his hand. “He’s willing to accept someone who isn’t a member of the nobility, but only if her family makes the connection worth it. And hers…” He let out a deep sigh.
“Doesn’t?”
“You could say that.”
They sat in silence for several minutes. Axel resumed staring into the distance, wishing he could make sense of it in his mind. How could mere hours in her company persuade him that he knew her intimately? After such a short acquaintance, how could knowing that his father would refuse the match make him —
Make him what?
Because he couldn’t be heartbroken. Only fools in love could have broken hearts. He could perhaps be labeled a fool, but even with his flair for the dramatic, he couldn’t be in love. Not with someone he’d only met once.
“Perhaps why she was interested in your title, then.”
At Tobias’s offhand comment, Axel realized that he had let himself slip out of character. Sharing his true self was only safe with Michael – his friend and the crown prince of Daraigh – and—and—
She slipped out of his grasp as an ache formed in his temples, but he glimpsed her challenging grin before the memory faded back into the fog. It had been safe with her, whoever she was.
Shoving himself to his feet, he grabbed a handful of his cloak in his right hand before bringing his fist to his chest, elbow out to the side. “I have enjoyed our time of deep reminisces; however, it would be prudent for me to attend the end of the festivities lest my parents become aware of my absence and rebuke me for it. Therefore, I must repair to the castle. Will you join me, or shall I leave you here to bask in the winter beauty alone?”
“I’m not sitting in the cold alone,” Tobias muttered as he dragged himself off the bench. Gesturing with the glass in his right hand, he tossed his cloak around his shoulders and said, “Lead on.”
~
A light knock sounded on the closed door of Axel’s study. “Your Highness, you have a visitor.”
Axel lunged for his waistcoat where it was draped over a nearby armchair, taking care to bend his knees and step lightly so the sound did not carry through the door. “One moment,” he called in a calm voice.
As he pulled on and buttoned his waistcoat, he surveyed his study, looking for anything that he needed to fix. His chair was still angled to the side for window-gazing; he quickly and quietly set it straight to the desk again. The papers that he had been not perusing had fallen to the floor when he grabbed his waistcoat, so he picked those up and set them neatly on his desk.
A final glance around the room at the orderly books lining the walls and the perfectly arranged chairs in front of his desk satisfied him that his study was ready for guests. Strolling to the door, he casually opened it and gave the guard outside an easy smile. “Hello, Bertram.”
Bertram had passed fifty years of age, and the gray at his temples clearly showed it. Personally, Axel was surprised there wasn’t more, given the trial he had been to his guard over the years. The older man merely nodded to him in acknowledgement, then gestured to the nervous-looking, middle-aged man standing a few feet away. His shoulders were hunched, and he twisted his hands together at his waist.
Why was the operations director of the Himmelsburg Theater visiting him at the castle?
“Good afternoon, Director,” Axel said, stepping forward with a wide smile and outstretched hand. The director bobbed a quick bow. Glancing nervously at the offered hand, he gave it a shake so quick that Axel barely felt the contact before it was gone again.
“I’m terribly sorry to bother you, Your Highness,” the director squeaked. Axel always found it amusing that a man with such an unpleasant voice ran a theater with such marvelous productions. “Could I speak with you?”
Axel took a step back and to the side, gesturing toward the open door of his study with a wide sweep of his left arm. “Naturally, my good sir. I endeavor to be always accessible to the needs of my people in any way that I am able, humble though my abilities may be. If it is within my power to solve your troubles, you may be certain that I will do so.”
“Oh, yes. Thank you. Thank you very kindly, Your Highness,” the director stammered as he entered the study ahead of his prince. Axel gave Bertram a lopsided smile and a joking salute as he followed the director. Just before the door cut him off from view, Axel saw the guard lift his eyes to the ceiling and give a slight shake of his head before resuming his professional posture.
“Please have a seat,” Axel said, waving a careless hand in the direction of the chairs in front of his desk. Despite the offer, the director remained standing until Axel had settled himself in his own obnoxiously large chair on the other side. “How may I help you, Director? Is there something which our most excellent theater lacks which I might be able to reasonably provide?”
The director folded his hands in his lap, then unfolded them and spread his hands over the armrests of his chair. He opened his mouth, closed it, and ran a finger over his upper lip. “I am hesitant to bring the matter to your attention,” he began obsequiously, transitioning to twisting his hands in his lap. “However, matters have reached a point where—that is to say, the situation is such that—”
Axel relaxed back in his chair, lacing his fingers together behind his head. Letting the left corner of his mouth twitch upward, he said, “Allow me to produce my pardon upfront and to assure you that if what you ask is beyond what I am able to approve, I promise I will not have you thrown from the castle, but will simply tell you no.”
The director cleared his throat. “Yes. Well. Thank you, Your Highness. We have had a series of unfortunate accidents at the theater, as I’m sure you know, beginning with the curtain that broke Georg’s leg. ”
Straightening in his chair, Axel interrupted, “There have been more? Why haven’t I heard about this?”
“Oh, ah, I assumed you would have,” the director fumbled. “Mostly little things, except for Georg’s leg, of course. A door slamming shut when no one is near it. A rack of costumes falling over. Things like that.”
Axel raised an eyebrow and twirled his hand in his father’s favorite “keep going” gesture.
“It has the cast all worked up,” the director worried, rubbing his hands together. “There are whispers of ghosts or—” He lowered his voice and looked quickly to one side and then the other as if checking for eavesdroppers. “Magic.”
“Ghosts or magic?” Axel scoffed. “There’s no such thing as either.”
“Still,” the director protested, wringing his hands. “Some of the more superstitious members are threatening to quit if it keeps up.”
Sighing, Axel asked, “And what assistance do you hope I can provide with this problem?”
“Yes. Well. Some of the accidents have been less, er, ghostly in nature.” The director cleared his throat. “A counterweight falling, lifting lines coming loose. We had a wall sconce drop to the floor just this morning.”
Axel tensed. “Did it—”
“Thankfully, there were several cast members near at hand who extinguished the flame before it could catch,” the director said, anticipating his question. The prince relaxed into his chair again. “However, that is what drove me to speak with you, Your Highness.”
“What sum do you believe would enable the necessary maintenance, Director?” Axel smoothly asked.
The director named an amount. After some discussion and the promise of a detailed written report of the proposed repairs, Axel worked the number down to a figure that would ensure the safety of the theater for its employees, cast, and patrons without drawing his father’s attention.
Once he had sent the director happily on his way, Axel verified the door was firmly closed before repositioning his chair so that he could see out the window. Then casting his waistcoat back on the nearby armchair, he picked up the report he was supposed to be reviewing, dropped into his absurd chair, and gazed at the clouds while he thought about old buildings in need of repair.
~
“Miserable wretches—think they are—if I outlaw—” King Steffan muttered under his breath as he attacked his ham with his knife.
Ignoring his father, Axel slowly twirled his fork, the bite of meat on it forgotten as he stared out the window. Presenting his suggestion might be a bad idea. His parents would resist. But now that he’d allowed his mind to consider it, it refused to go away.
A slight clearing of his mother’s throat brought him back to the present. As if he’d meant to all along, Axel lifted the fork the rest of the way to his mouth and resumed eating his breakfast.
“What has you distracted this morning?” Queen Carina asked. She delicately patted her mouth with her napkin before lifting her eyebrows in a wistful expression. “Were you thinking about Heidi again?”
“No, actually.” He speared a piece of potato. “I had a visit from the theater operations director the other day regarding some maintenance the building required, and it started me thinking.”
“—cares about spinning— ”
His mother’s face fell at this proof that he was not daydreaming about his lost ladylove. “About what?”
“Other buildings in need of care,” he replied casually, looking at his plate as he selected his next bite. “I thought perhaps I could visit Reineggburg to see what it would take to make it habitable again. Why did we abandon it, anyway?”
“Reineggburg?” His mother stiffened, her voice unusually tense. Even Father stopped his irritated mumbling and watched Axel intently as his fingers twitched on his silverware. “Why would you want to fix it back up?”
“Why not?” Axel replied uncertainly. “What am I not remembering?”
Mother smoothed a nonexistent lock of loose hair behind her ear. “It—it isn’t someplace to return to,” she murmured, shifting her eyes to the side before looking down at her plate. “Not after what happened.”
“Which was…?”
“That’s enough, boy,” Father snapped. He glared at his son as he stabbed a piece of meat with his fork. “It was abandoned for a reason. The answer is no.”
That was it? Gulping down his disappointment, Axel gave his father a pleasant smile. “Of course. I’m sorry for bringing it up.”
As his mother relaxed and returned to her meal, Axel painted on a calm and undisturbed manner. Inside, he berated himself for his foolishness. What had he been thinking? Even if his father had let him go, it wouldn’t have changed anything.
He needed to accept the impossible for what it was.