The Second Game
Rinka
Rinka’s eyebrows lifted as she heard rhythmic sounds coming from across the hall.
“I’m glad to see him so well,” said Idris. He had settled on the bed with his back against the wall, just as he had been in Alison’s room. “He was always a dour sort. Too serious by a mile. I think they just make them that way up here.”
He gestured for her to sit beside him, but she didn’t trust herself with him on the single bed, so she took a seat in a chair that looked to be held together by living vines.
“I thought you were a bit of a dour sort when we met,” said Rinka.
“Did you really?” asked Idris, leaning forward. “I thought I came across as dark, handsome, and mysterious.” He played with the loose laces of his shirt, drawing attention to his muscled chest.
He was entirely too sure of himself.
“Perhaps one out of three,” said Rinka.
“Handsome?”
“Mysterious,” said Rinka, tossing an embroidered throw pillow at him.
He laughed. “I suppose I can’t argue with that. I was disappointed to have our game come to such an abrupt conclusion, and before I was able to hear your third question. I don’t suppose you’d tell me what it was.”
In truth, Rinka still hadn’t settled on her third question, and there was no chance it would have led her to his royal status anyway. “I think I’d rather save my third question for another time,” she said. She could think of nothing to ask right now, but she could see no reason to sacrifice a question with a guaranteed honest answer.
“I see,” said Idris. “A good move, but I would have expected nothing less. I have another bargain to propose, if you’d be willing to listen.”
Rinka’s mother’s voice sounded off a warning in her head once more. “Run, stupid girl. What are you doing getting tangled up with royalty? You don’t belong here. He doesn’t care about you. You’re just a game to him.”
“Go on,” said Rinka.
“When we get into town, I’ll have no choice but to admit who I am. And once I do so, they’ll make sure I have good accommodations, likely in Weldan House—that’s Keir’s family estate. And I’ll have to go along with all the usual court nonsense: the parties, the luncheons, the balls. Dreadful waste of time, but I thought you might like to see it all. You spoke of your love for the picture shows, and I thought you might enjoy seeing all the glitz and glamor of court firsthand.”
“I would,” said Rinka. It was true—she’d never truly allowed herself to dream of a posh life like Alison did, but was there any little girl that hadn’t dreamt of going to a ball with a prince?
“The court is rather old-fashioned. Since neither you nor Alison are nobility, you’ll be denied access to all but the public events. Ms. Lennox might get some invitations since she’s courting Keir, but her beau is generally allergic to a good time and probably won’t want to go anyway. I, on the other hand, have no choice, and if I must go, I’d rather it be with you.”
Rinka tried her best to ignore the rapid acceleration of her heartbeat. “How am I meant to attend?” she asked.
“If we were courting—or if we were to say we were courting—if we were to pretend to court, you might get invitations as well. And if you were to pretend to be a noble of some kind, you might be allowed anywhere. Perhaps you could even stay in Weldan House too.”
“I told you. You thought he was asking you to court him, didn’t you? You hoped. I told you, but your fool heart didn’t listen.”
Rinka put her hands over her ears to block out her mother’s voice. It was a pointless exercise; the woman’s voice was not truly in the room with her. It was in her mind, and it wasn’t going anywhere.
“Are you alright?” asked Idris.
“Sorry,” she said. “Water in my ears from earlier. I think I must have misheard you. Did you say ‘pretend to court’? ‘Pretend to be a noble’?”
“I did. It wouldn’t be so bad to pretend to court me, would it? You’d get the attention—and the pity—of the entire court. People would be lining up to rescue you from me.”
That part made a lot of sense, Rinka had to admit. As much as she enjoyed his company, she would never be able to marry a prince. But Alison was a commoner, and she had landed a future duke. There would be many nobles to meet, and some of them had to be low enough status to consider her.
“What about…this?” She gestured broadly at herself.
“The sea-bleached dress? I’m certain we can get you some nice clothes made once we arrive, especially once we share our tale of how the pirates took all of our things,” said Idris.
“No, not that. Me. I’m an orc.”
“I had noticed that, yes,” he said. “I’ll admit the court is a bit behind the times on notions of race, but they have been trying to reform that image. One of my sister’s ladies-in-waiting is an orc, the young widow of an elvish earl. The Ainsley family are human, and they’ve held a duchy for generations due to their service in the Great Wars.”
“The Great Wars are what I’m talking about. Times may be changing, but not everyone has such progressive views on things. It took me ages to find a position after I lost my job as an office cleaner. I hated butchery, but when people look at me, they see violence, chaos, bloodshed. They don’t see beauty, grace, elegance, any of the things I think of when I think nobility.”
“If someone looks at you and fails to see beauty, then they’re blind,” said Idris quite sincerely.
Rinka blushed, speechless.
“And truly, those things are not inherent to the nobility. Just wait until you meet the Duke of Penmond. But I understand your meaning,” Idris continued. “I can’t promise that you won’t face that kind of treatment, and I understand if you’d rather not deal with the entire thing. You should visit the University one day; there are wonderful things happening there that might give you some hope for the future. But if you do still wish to give it a go, I can promise you this—anyone who dares to say anything to you that you don’t like in my presence will live to regret it.”
Rinka was worried less about what they might say to her—she had heard it all before—and more about what they might do if they found her out. “Don’t most nobles travel with servants? Won’t they think it odd if I show up alone?”
Idris couldn’t help but smile that she was still entertaining the idea. “I travel alone. Perhaps they’ll think it’s just a quirk we share. Or you could invent some story—say your lady’s maid caught a fever during the journey, and you sent her home to recover.”
Rinka could think of a dozen other objections, but the truth was, she was curious. “Alright,” she said simply.
“You’ll do it? You’ll join me for the summer?” His face—his dark and handsome face, she had to admit, although he was no longer as mysterious—was so hopeful, so joyous at the prospect, she couldn’t help but getting excited herself.
“I’ll join you for as long as we can keep up the charade. Can you protect me if something goes wrong?”
“It won’t, but of course I’ll protect you. Just keep clear of my sister. She schemes even worse than my father.”
“Even worse than you?”
“My games are child’s play compared to hers, believe me,” said Idris. He slapped his thighs and stood once more. “Come, let’s give Keir and Alison the news.”
“We’ll tell them the truth,” said Rinka. “I can’t possibly keep something like this from Alison.”
“Of course,” said Idris. “But once we’re in town, we’ll have to play the part. I hope you can handle it, Lady Rinka.” He held out his arm.
She looped her arm through his, holding the elbow upright as she had seen in the picture show. “I’ll do my best, your highness. It’s like my father always said. ‘Fool them once, shame on you. Fool them twice, and they’re the fool.’”
“I don’t—you know what. That one actually works,” said Idris through his laughter.
“Though I wouldn’t mind a lesson or two on our journey. Just in case.”
“With pleasure,” he said, and he led the great Lady Rinka from the room.