CHAPTER 12
Axel
I t wasn’t the most beautiful morning Axel had ever seen, but at least he was seeing it from the streets around the castle instead of from a room inside.
In a few weeks, the weather would be a little warmer, but for now, the world around him was firmly convinced it was still winter. There was no snow to visually identify it as such – unless one took hints from the people wrapped in heavy cloaks as they wandered the streets – but the wind whipping around corners and flinging up loose cloak edges cut across his face like a knife. He found it strangely refreshing; at least the pain tingling across his skin communicated that he was still able to feel, not yet numbed to life through his father’s insistence on controlling his every move.
Axel shoved his free hand into his pocket, pulled his cloak tighter with the other, and sighed. He was being overdramatic, and he knew it. Being denied the chance to even discuss the possibility of visiting Reineggburg had frustrated him. No matter how expected, his father’s reaction stung. He’d stayed annoyed until he escaped to Tobias’s home in the late afternoon, where he had remained until this morning.
Instead of taking Bertram or one of the others, he’d dragged Otto with him, ignoring the guilt that he had also pulled the guard out of bed early in the morning. Bertram would have felt honor-bound to bring him home before the night grew too late and would have dutifully ensured that the king knew his whereabouts. Otto, on the other hand, was more laid-back about such things. As long as the king did not command otherwise, Otto ensured Axel was safe and considered his duty met.
Otto was a treasure Axel wished he’d appreciated years earlier.
At the moment, Otto was strolling down the road beside him, his eyes casually scanning their surroundings. Strict adherence to the rules would put Otto behind the prince he was guarding, but Axel never minded when the guard chose to ignore protocol; he preferred to be the one doing the bowing after a performance rather than having others bow to him or otherwise set him on a pedestal.
He understood a prince being in that position. But life would be simpler if he weren’t a prince.
If he weren’t a prince, he would be free to pursue a life as an actor. To be open with his friends. To travel if and where he wished, as long as he had the funds.
To pursue the girl he wanted.
The wind died down briefly, allowing his flapping cloak to settle, before gusting down the street and blowing the lower edge up past his waist, where his tightly-clenched hand prevented the rest of the cloak from following. Next to him, Otto raised a hand to protect his squinting eyes as he continued his perusal of the neighborhood.
Axel scowled up at the overcast sky. Appreciating the ability to feel didn’t mean he wanted to be battered.
Kicking a loose rock, he watched it bounce across the cobblestones of their smaller side street. He began humming one of the villain’s songs from the last production at the theater. Right now, it was more satisfying than the hero’s songs; he was angry, so he wasn’t interested in singing about love or courage or other bright emotions.
Gradually, he moved from humming to mumbling the words under his breath to singing at a volume loud enough to carry across the street. He allowed himself a few muted gestures with his free hand to aid the cathartic experience.
“Must you draw attention to us?” Otto said in a tight, low voice.
Axel abruptly stopped singing and glanced over at his companion in surprise. Normally, Otto didn’t mind what Axel did as they walked, but he was also normally fairly relaxed. Axel’s own mood had distracted him earlier, but now that he was paying attention, he noticed that his guard’s lips were turned down, the corners tense, and his brows were lowered. In addition, instead of swinging freely at his side, Otto’s right arm was across his stomach, likely resting on the sword hilt that was carefully concealed under a cloak that appeared less affected by the wind than Axel’s. Judging by the way it moved, it had weights sewn into it.
Huh. That wasn’t standard for the guards’ cloaks.
Although on a second look, he realized Otto wasn’t wearing the cloak that came with his guard’s uniform.
“Sleep poorly, did you?” he lightly teased. It was harder than usual to throw up the carefree attitude, but if he stayed glum, the shrewd man next to him might start to suspect things, especially if Axel said the wrong thing in his hearing. “Must have been the strange environs; you’re not usually such a bear in the mornings.”
“You’re not usually such a meadowlark,” Otto snapped back. His ever-moving eyes didn’t pause, not even to focus a glare on the object of his ire.
“Come now, surely I was closer to a dog with that aria,” Axel quipped.
The guard huffed in response. “Do you remember the red- haired stranger from the first morning you took me along as your guard?”
“Hmm, you mean the one that had you so panicked?” Axel replied. He let one side of his mouth pull up, anticipating the coming reaction.
“I wasn’t panicked,” Otto growled. “I was appropriately concerned for your safety.”
Looking up and to the left, Axel pretended to ponder. “Concerned…I suppose you could call it that, but I seem to remember your eyes being remarkably wide for—”
“Can you drop it?” The guard finally turned his narrowed eyes on the prince. “The point is that I saw him again a few days ago.”
Axel stopped walking, his own eyes wide now. “You did? Where? What was he doing?”
Otto motioned for him to keep moving. “Near an inn where I was planning to enjoy supper. He was talking with one of your father’s advisors.”
“Which one?”
Shaking his head, the guard replied, “I don’t know his name. Short, squat, lanky shoulder-length brown hair, favors his right leg when he waddles.”
A snort almost broke through Axel’s concern. Otto’s descriptions were always succinct and unflattering, but they were also accurate. “Lord Ulrich. He’s been on the council since before I was born.” He tapped his thigh with his free hand as he turned his shoulder forward to stunt the effects of another gust of wind. “Have you told anyone else?”
Otto scoffed, his eyes roving once more. “What would I tell them? ‘I saw a man who sets off all my danger signals, so I think we should arrest him for walking down the city streets’?”
“Hmm. I can see how that wouldn’t accomplish much,” Axel mused .
“Therefore, all I can do is keep myself extra vigilant and try ,” he glared in Axel’s direction, “to keep you unremarkable so I have a better chance of spotting him before he notices you.”
“Sorry,” Axel replied. He let a little sheepishness leak onto his face. “That’s why you’re not in uniform, isn’t it?”
Otto gave him a sharp nod. “And taking the liberty of walking next to you. Two friends out for a stroll hide better than a young man with a personal guard or servant.”
Axel opened his mouth to protest that it wasn’t a liberty, but then he closed it again. He’d been far too lax the last few months; he might not care if Otto walked next to him, but the perfect prince his father expected him to be would.
They walked in silence for a few minutes. Since Axel had stayed for breakfast, the wide streets were busier than he was used to when returning home after a morning jaunt. However, he was still invisible with his simple cloak.
“What have you been brooding about?” Otto asked suddenly. “It’s unlike you.”
“Oh?” Axel looked up with slightly upturned lips. Drat.
“Visibly, at least,” Otto amended. His tone wasn’t even curious. How did one professionally inquire into another’s mood?
Chuckling, Axel replied, “Are you accusing me of masking my emotions? My friend, everyone knows that I am as free with my emotions as the wind.”
“My cousin Kat wears her heart in her eyes,” Otto responded simply. It was odd to carry on a conversation with someone looking away the entire time, Axel mused idly as he watched the other man continue to scan the area. “You only pretend to.”
He felt his face freeze for a moment before recovering from the unexpected observation. Letting out a heartfelt sigh, he said, “I must confess that you are correct about the brooding. ’Tis because of a maiden who haunts my thoughts. Clearly, because I cannot even keep them from spilling over in the presence of my guard.”
“The girl from the theater?”
“Alas, yes.” He pressed a hand over his heart – on the outside of his cloak, of course, since the effect was lost if it wasn’t visible. “The one who broke my heart because she desired me only for my title.”
Otto’s eyes paused on him briefly. “Is that what happened?” Axel nodded mournfully. “In that case, why are you still pursuing her?”
“Pardon?” Axel’s eyebrows flew up. “Who has told you that I am pursuing her?”
“Isn’t that why you’re brooding? Because your father wouldn’t let you go to Reineggburg?”
Puckering his lips, he asked, “How do you know about that?”
“Servants have ears, and they like to talk,” Otto responded. “I also have ears, and I like to listen.”
“Be that as it may, I’m not sure I see the connection between that fact and your insinuations.”
To his surprise, Otto grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop. Perhaps Otto felt comfortable relaxing his watchfulness since they were almost within sight of the castle, but suddenly Axel found himself the recipient of his guard’s full focus. The man’s blue eyes were intense as he stared the prince down. “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. Don’t pursue her unless you’re going to fight for her. She doesn’t deserve to have her heart broken again because your father says no and you just accept it.”
“What?”
“If you hurt her…” The guard trailed off, letting his tone and intense stare fill in his meaning.
“Are we talking about Heidi?” Axel asked with a short laugh. It came out more nervous than he had intended .
“If that’s the girl you’ve been pining after.”
“I wasn’t aware you were familiar with her.” He gave his arm a subtle tug.
Otto released him and took a step back, turning away. “Whether I am or not, she doesn’t deserve it.”
Axel blinked at his back for a few seconds. That had been…unexpected. Finally, he began walking toward the last turn again. Otto fell into step next to him.
“I have no intention of hurting her or anyone,” Axel said lightly. “I should never wish to hurt someone I care about.”
Otto didn’t look at him – not that he had for most of the journey – as he replied, “You may not intend to, but that doesn’t mean you won’t.”
Once they were inside the castle grounds, Axel waved his guard off to his other duties and headed for the castle building, his mind still circling their conversation. What did Otto know? Should he begin distancing himself? He was confident the guard would keep his evidence and conclusions to himself, but that didn’t mean Axel wanted to give him more opportunity to glean them.
Unfortunately, to avoid him now would suggest things that Axel didn’t want him to infer.
“Your Highness!” called a female servant shortly after Axel entered the castle. “The king requests your presence in his study.”
Axel raised his eyebrows in polite interest and curved his lips slightly. “Thank you. Did he say why?”
“No, Your Highness,” the servant replied with a curtsy. “Only that if we saw you, we were to send you there immediately.”
“Thank you for letting me know.” Axel flashed her a charming grin, placed his right hand on his chest, and dipped in a shallow bow before sauntering off in the direction of his father’s study. Behind him, he heard the giggles that such actions usually elicited.
He kept the scowl off his face as he navigated the halls, but only just. Yes, he’d been out longer than normal and returned later, but even the servants and guards had days off; why couldn’t he? Why couldn’t he—
Shoving the thoughts aside, he took a few deep breaths while smiling pleasantly at the people he passed. It was no wonder his guard was picking up on things; his control was slipping. Ever since opening night of The Tanner’s Secret , it had been harder to keep his true thoughts and feelings sealed away.
The dreams didn’t help, either. Now he had concerned brown eyes following him through the night. Eyes that were concerned…for him. Sometimes they were laughing instead as their owner reacted to something he’d said, but it was always genuine. He felt genuine in those dreams. No matter how he strained, the sound of her laughter was always just out of reach, but he had an insatiable desire to earn more of it.
As he approached the study, he heard raised voices. It was never a good sign when sound leaked out of his father’s study. He took a moment to affix a dutiful expression on his face, then knocked on the door.
The voices immediately cut off. “Come in,” the king called gruffly.
Axel opened the door and poked his head through the opening. “Just me, Father,” he smiled before stepping the rest of the way into the room. To his surprise, a quick glance revealed that the only other occupant was his mother and that her face was flushed.
His parents had been having a heated argument? He couldn’t remember the last time he’d witnessed a fight between them.
“About time you showed up,” Father grumbled. “I’ve had servants on the watch for you since yesterday evening! ”
“I am most sorry, Father,” Axel replied, molding his face into penitence and dropping his eyes to the floor. “I was not aware that I would be wanted, so I accepted Tobias’s invitation to visit him at his home and remained there through breakfast.”
“And you couldn’t leave word?” his father growled. He struck his desk with an open palm as he launched himself out of his chair.
“That is not important right now, Steffan,” the queen cut in. Her voice was clipped and possessed a harsh quality that Axel rarely heard. “Unless you are going to claim his presence would have made a difference when mine didn’t?”
Axel watched in astonishment as the king spun toward her. “It was not up for discussion then, nor is it now! What’s done is done. I don’t know why you’re so upset; it’s not like she’ll manage it.”
“You don’t know why I’m upset?” his mother echoed disbelievingly. “Why would I be upset when you promise our son to an unknown village girl without even discussing it with me? Or him?”
“Wait, what?”
“She’ll never complete the task, so it wasn’t important.” Father stomped over to a window on the other side of the room and glared out it. “And if your son would come to meetings like he is supposed to, he would have had the opportunity to register protests if he had them.”
“ If I had them?”
“Well, I suppose that’s something, but that still leaves me out of this!” Mother jammed her fists onto her hips and followed after him. “ I don’t get to register protests? This is our son you’re talking about!”
Axel detested yelling; it didn’t suit his image and tended to exacerbate problems instead of letting him slip out of them. But since their argument had driven his presence from his parents’ minds, he set aside his normal rules of conduct and yelled.
Not as loud as he could; his hours of practice with Lotti ensured a healthy set of lungs and the ability to project quite well. But fairly loud, nonetheless. “What is going on?”
Both of his parents turned to him. His mother’s face was shocked; his father’s was simply annoyed.
“Would someone please explain to me what has happened?” he asked in a normal voice. “Generally, I would not attempt to pry, but my feeble understanding suggests that it pertains closely to me.” He raised questioning eyebrows in his mother’s direction, judging that she would be less likely to take offense at his “impertinence.”
“It does,” she huffed. She sent another glare the king’s way before turning to face her son. “ Your father was upset by a rumor from one of the villages, so instead of sending for the man who made the comments, he had the man’s daughter arrested and brought here. Then, instead of any reasonable punishment, he informed her that her father’s loans were due immediately but that if she would spend three nights spinning things into gold , he would marry her off to you and cancel the debt as a wedding present.”
Axel stared at her. He must have stayed up too late and fallen asleep standing up, because where else but a strange dream sequence did people talk about spinning things into gold and marrying princes to penniless strangers for doing so?
“I don’t understand why you’re upset,” Father muttered to the window. “It’s an impossible task, so she won’t be able to do it, so Axel won’t have to marry her.”
“But—why?” Axel finally managed. “Why offer her an impossible deal, and why – whether it’s impossible or not – why offer marriage to me as a prize?”
“One of my advisors suggested it.” Father turned back to the room. Now that Mother had stopped yelling, he had resumed a normal volume. “Her father claimed that the ban on spinning wheels kept him poor because his daughter can spin her wool into gold. Obviously, she can’t, since only magic could do such a thing and magic doesn’t exist, but offering her the deal allows the crown to give her the chance to prove his words. Offering your hand in marriage displays our willingness to correct our mistakes should she accomplish the feat and show that her father is not a liar.”
That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. It was right on the tip of his tongue, but Axel managed to bite it off at the last moment. He didn’t need to set off the yelling again. Besides, a different point was more important to him.
“If you are willing to let me marry a poor village girl,” he said quietly, his voice shaking a little as he struggled to control his emotion, “why can’t you let me choose my own?”
“You’re not listening, Axel.” Father shook his head as he walked back to his desk. “You won’t be marrying her. Last night was the first night, so it’s already over.”
“But what if she pulls it off?” Axel insisted. His hands clenched into fists at his side. “You don’t think she can, but what if you’re wrong? Then I’ll be marrying some no-name girl from a little village.”
Mother took a few steps closer to him, her forehead wrinkled. “I didn’t think you cared that much about social station, Axel.”
Keeping his gaze focused on his father, Axel repeated, his voice starting to rise, “If you’re willing to take the risk that I marry someone like that, why not let me choose my own? I thought you said you wanted me to be happy if possible!”
“Axel,” his mother admonished. “Why—” She paused when he turned his blazing eyes in her direction. Her eyes widened as understanding dawned in them. “Oh,” she sighed. “Heidi is from a poor family in one of our villages. Isn’t she? ”
He didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. His expression said it all.
“If you’ve known the whole time that her father wasn’t acceptable, why didn’t you say so?” Father lowered himself heavily into his chair. “At least we can put her behind us now.”
“Why should she be judged by her father?” Axel argued. “If she is acceptable, why does it matter whether her family is?”
Father looked up from his papers without raising his head. “If you were to marry her, her family would become our family. Therefore, if her family is unacceptable, so is she.” He dropped his focus back to the papers. “Especially if she is only interested in your title. Wasn’t that the reason you rejected her?”
“Won’t the girl trying to spin gold want my title, too?” Axel bit back.
“Actually, she seemed much more interested in helping her family,” Mother interjected. She mashed her lips together, but the edges curved up slightly. “She didn’t appear to want to marry you.”
“Good, and I don’t want to marry her, so let’s call it off.”
Father slammed the papers onto the desk. “It doesn’t matter. If I thought there was a chance of her succeeding, I wouldn’t have agreed to it when Lord Ulrich suggested it, and he would never have suggested it if he thought there was a chance of her succeeding.”
“Lord Ulrich?” Axel asked. His frustration began to dissipate as he latched onto the name. Surely it was simply coincidence. After all, what could Otto’s stranger have to do with this situation?
“However, it is time for you to settle down,” Father continued in a calmer voice. He picked up his papers and resumed examining them. “Neither of us is getting any younger; you need to find a suitable wife so you can ensure we have an heir.”
At these words, Axel’s emotions began to well up again. “ Father, I—”
“Begin assembling a list of the noblewomen you plan to consider once this spinning mess is behind us.” His father raised his eyes again. “Or I’ll do it for you.”
“Steffan,” Mother protested. “At least give him some time to—”
“He’s had plenty of time.” Father held his eyes. “Now he needs to grow up.”
Axel breathed deeply through his nose but couldn’t quite unclench his jaw. “Yes, Father.”
As he turned and wrenched the door back open, Father said, “I’ll be meeting with the girl later to find out how she did last night. You should be there.”
He kept his hand on the door and his face toward the hall. “I have no wish to watch her failure. I refuse to be part of this.”
Then he left the study, only just stopping himself from slamming the door, to the sound of his mother’s quiet tsk -ing at his father.
~
Axel sat at his desk with his forehead resting on his crossed arms. It wasn’t even lunchtime, and he’d had quite the day between his boundary-lacking personal guard and his overbearing, unreasonable father.
He could only imagine the kind of day it had been for that poor girl his father had dragged to the capital. Honestly, commanding her to spin gold to save her family’s livelihood? What was Father thinking?
A thoughtful prince might try to comfort her, but Axel wanted nothing to do with her. Not with talk of him marrying her floating about.
He would rather marry a different near-stranger.
The current mess highlighted Otto’s words to him. Axel had no control over that aspect of his future; it would be cruel to seek out his theater girl when he could only offer friendship.
And friendship would be dangerous once his father forced him to marry a dull, shallow, sniping member of the court. It would be best to never have the temptation.
Unless…unless he defied his father and married the girl he wanted. What could his father do, after all? Disinherit him?
He lifted his head, leaning on his elbows. And if Father made their lives miserable, they could flee to Daraigh and stay with Michael.
Until it caused conflict between the two kingdoms or the absence of the heir caused inner turmoil in Ralnor.
Axel brought his fists up to prop up his head. It would be incredibly selfish to follow such a course. He couldn’t do it. Not even for her.
A light tap sounded on his door, but he ignored it. After a minute, it sounded again, a little louder. He closed his eyes and mumbled under his breath, “I’m not here. Go away.”
The door opened a crack. “Your Highness, you have a visitor.” When he didn’t respond, the door opened far enough to admit Bertram’s head. “Are you indisposed?”
“No,” Axel replied, dragging a hand down his face. “Give me a moment.”
Scolding himself for his moping, he pushed himself to his feet and shook out his hands. It didn’t matter that he wanted to crawl out his window – if it weren’t on the second floor – and disappear into the solitude of the gardens. He was an actor. He’d been acting for years, and it was time to put on his act once again.
A mirror in his study had never been necessary, so he combed his fingers quickly through his hair and hoped it was sufficient. He took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes, remembering how it felt to stand on the stage with the curtains open. The beauty of the auditorium and the peacefulness of a note dissipating in the vast space drifted through him, chasing away his blues.
He donned his pleasantly-receptive expression, opened his eyes, and crossed to the door to welcome his visitor.
“Director?” Axel’s eyebrows rose as he surveyed the theater’s operations director standing outside his door again. As before, the man’s shoulders were hunched, but this time he gripped a satchel with both hands in front of his chest. “Back so soon?”
The little man cringed. “I am so sorry to disturb you once again, Your Highness. If I could have avoided it—”
“No trouble,” Axel assured him with an easy smile. “Please, come in.”
He stepped aside to allow the director to pass through the door. Waving the man into a seat, he crossed behind his desk and rested his arms on the back of his chair, leaning against it instead of sitting in it. “What can I do for you? Is there a problem with the repairs?”
“No, not precisely.” The director fidgeted with the satchel in his lap. “The repairs are progressing as expected, but there have been additional accidents.”
“Nothing serious, I hope?” Axel asked with a slight frown.
“No, no,” the director assured him. He rubbed his hands together. Unfastening the clasp on his satchel with shaking hands, he reached in and drew out a handful of paper. “No, it is the notes that concern me. I didn’t mention them before, but…”
Axel leaned forward, curious to see what kind of notes would be so distressing to the director.
“We’ve found them all over. On my desk, tied to the lift lines, nailed to dressing room doors, stuffed inside the score sitting on the piano. ”
“Surely it is someone connected to the theater, then,” Axel mused, lightly tapping his chin with one finger. “Unless you have seen someone wandering around who does not belong?”
The director shook his head and stared down at the stack of paper in his lap. “No, no one has seen any strangers. No one has seen any evidence of the person leaving the notes.”
“Not that they are telling you, at least,” Axel added.
Pinching his lips together, the director said, “Precisely.”
Axel tapped his chin a few more times before straightening up and raising a single eyebrow. “While this is all very fascinating, I am afraid that I do not yet perceive the manner in which you believe I can assist you.”
“Yes. Well. I suppose I simply believed you would wish to be aware of the matter. Since you are so invested in our theater, Your Highness.” The director began shuffling the papers in his hand. “And…perhaps I hoped that you would know something. I am aware that you sometimes visit our theater outside of normal hours. Or perhaps you would be willing to keep an eye out in the future. And let me know, you know, should you see anything.”
“Yes, of course,” Axel replied easily, waving a careless hand. “That is easily done.” Peering curiously at the papers crinkling in the director’s hand, he added, “If you do not mind my asking, what do the notes say?”
The director took a deep breath, looking down at his lap before shifting his eyes sideways to look at the bookshelves instead of his prince. “Some of them are general commentary on performances and rehearsals. A few have—have complained about casting assignments. The last one—” He paused, glancing back down at the top note in the stack. “It kindly suggested that our prince would be the best choice for the lead in our next production.”
Axel felt his eyes widen and both eyebrows shoot toward his hairline. “As I am sure you are aware, Director, that would be quite impossible. My father would never allow such a thing.”
“Yes. Well. That may be, but it would appear you have a fan who thinks it should be otherwise.” Ceasing his nervous examination of the notes, the director peeked over at Axel. “Do you sing, Your Highness?”
Axel flapped his hand. “From time to time.” As if he hadn’t spent an hour practicing with Lotti the previous morning.
“I see.” The director lifted the stack of papers an inch or so off his lap, hesitated, and then stuffed them back into the satchel. “There was another note that demanded Gunther return to the stage.”
“Gunther?” Settling lower against the chair back, Axel fixed a questioning gaze on the director.
“The young gentleman who opened The Tanner’s Secret as Lars,” the director supplied. “You remember.”
Axel shook his head. “Alas, I was not in the audience that night. I was called aside by a charming young lady and failed to return to my seat.”
“Yes. Well. You missed a fine performance.” The director fiddled with the clasps. “Would you—erm—could you help me find this Gunther to appease the note-sender?”
“Why ask me?” Axel asked. He paced a little way from the chair. “As I said, I did not witness his performance.”
“Ah, the note-sender said you would know how to find the young gentleman.”
He sent the director a sharp look, but the other man was focused on his hands. “Me?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Axel rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m afraid I lack the time this morning as I have several things to which I must attend,” he finally said. “But I will visit you at the theater tomorrow to discuss this further. ”
The director shot out of his chair. “Oh, of course. I cannot thank you enough for seeing me today, Your Highness. I fear I have taken too much of your valuable time.”
“Not at all,” Axel replied breezily as he gently shuffled his visitor to the door. “I will see you tomorrow.”
Despite his claim of having things to do, he didn’t plop into his chair to study the stack of papers on his desk, nor did he head toward a meeting. Instead, he paced in his study, muttering and rubbing the back of his neck. Why would someone tell the director that Axel should perform the lead? Why write that Axel knew the young man from opening night?
It was a mystery, and one he needed to solve. Quickly.