Chapter 10 A Princess with Red Hair
A Princess with Red Hair
Three days after their secret escapade into the city, Norah sat on the breakfast balcony watching Phillip practice boxing, yet another of his many physical outlets.
Norah couldn’t help smiling slightly as she wondered whether Nanny would think her spectatorship scandalous.
Phillip was fully clothed, but his shirt stuck to him with sweat, and she had a better-than-usual view of his shoulders.
In Norah’s defense, she had never specifically thought to ask Nanny if ladies ought to watch their betrothed practice punching others in the face–even if she had a pretty good idea of what her nurse would think.
“You were the one who wanted me here,” she murmured as though Nanny were beside her.
“Enjoying the view?”
Norah’s face flushed as she realized she wasn’t alone. She turned to see Lady Freya’s husband, Sir Oliver, join her.
Had he heard her talking to herself?
What did he think of her presence here?
“No. I mean, yes,” Norah stuttered. “It’s just that…”
He waved her off and shook his head. “I’m only teasing.” He leaned against the railing and looked down at Phillip and his trainer. “He’s quite impressive, isn’t he? Ten years my junior, and I was never his equal.”
“I know it may not be ladylike,” Norah said, her cheeks still warm, “but watching him… it’s like a window.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how to explain it.”
“He has very few ways to express his passions,” Sir Oliver said gently. “If I recall correctly, you only met a few times as children before your betrothal contract was signed, yes?”
Norah nodded. “I have a few memories of him, but nothing special. Just glimpses and introductions and such.”
Sir Oliver stroked his short beard thoughtfully. “You wouldn’t know, of course, but Phillip is naturally a very expressive person.” He smiled, his eyes growing distant. “The boy had an opinion on everything, and an enthusiasm for life that was unmatched.”
Norah looked back down at Phillip as he launched a heavy attack against his trainer, his face tight and his whole body tense. She could hear the power of his blows even through the leather padding he and his instructor wore.
“I think,” Sir Oliver said slowly, “that physical exertion is one of the few ways in which he can still express that enthusiasm.”
“He doesn’t seem to have lost any more ways of communicating since I arrived… Has he?” Norah asked.
Sir Oliver sighed. “Not since you came. But it comes in fits and starts. He’ll go months without losing anything, and then he’ll wake up one day, and another avenue of expression is gone.”
Norah watched miserably. “I wish I knew how to fix this faster. But falling in love…” She looked up at Sir Oliver.
It was an odd thing, talking to a man she didn’t know well about the delicate subject of love.
But the longer this conversation went on, the more desperate Norah felt.
“I can’t force it to happen,” she whispered.
“And even if it does, we don’t know if it will work.
None of my sister’s husbands were struck by this disease.
They were healed of other, more… common maladies.
I know of very few who were ever healed, and they were only healed because Prince Everard happened to see them in their initial stages of infection.
The prince wondered, of course, if things might have been different, had his father–King Rodrigue– come instead…
” Her throat tightened, her words dying on her lips as the horrid question echoed in her head.
What if my love isn’t enough?
What if I’m not enough?
And if that was the case, why even try? Why get his hopes up? Perhaps she would be better simply disappearing into the night after all.
“You’re doing well,” Sir Oliver said kindly. “He knows you’re trying. And so is he.” He nodded down at Phillip, who was now wiping the sweat off his forehead and shaking hands with his instructor.
“Ask him to teach you something,” Sir Oliver said as he turned away from the balcony. “One of his weapons, perhaps. It will give him confidence, and…” His blue eyes twinkled. “Give you an excuse to be close.”
Norah’s cheeks heated again, but as Sir Oliver walked away, she realized that it wasn’t a bad idea.
She knew now that Phillip hated being talked down to.
Some of his most aggravated violin tunes were played after one of his sister’s well-meant scoldings.
Unfortunately, not being able to speak seemed to subject one to more scoldings than most men his age should ever have to endure.
Drawing in a deep breath, Norah made up her mind and slowly walked down the spiral staircase to where Phillip was removing his leather gloves.
“Teach me,” she blurted.
Phillip stared at her as though she’d just swallowed a frog, so Norah cleared her throat and tried again.
“Can you teach me how to fight?” How in the depths was she so bad at this?
Phillip’s eyes went down to his gloves, then back up to hers.
“No, not that kind.” Norah shook her head and gave a nervous chuckle.
“I meant… I meant with the sword. Fencing.” There.
That ought to be a more appropriate request for a princess.
After all, one of her sisters had taken fencing lessons when she was young.
Their mother hadn’t really approved, but that was beside the point.
Of course, Norah had absolutely no desire whatsoever to fight anyone with a sword. But as they hadn’t made any noticeable progress since their trip to the city, she was desperate to try something new.
Also, seeing Phillip in his boxing clothes made her heart flutter faster than usual, and apparently, it addled her brain. He just looked so strong.
Phillip was still staring at her as though she’d lost her mind, but after a moment, he went over to a tiny building at the edge of the garden and went inside. A moment later, he emerged without his gloves and instead held two long, thin swords.
Only as he was walking out did Norah realize what she had just done. Why in the depths had she asked him to teach her to fence? What if she broke something? What if she stabbed him?
Unaware of her sudden terror, when Phillip reached her side, he flipped the sword in the air so he could hold it by the blade, offering her the hilt.
Norah felt much better when she realized that the blade wasn’t sharp after all.
Knowing she was less likely to accidentally stab someone–or herself–with it, she began to take the sword, but Phillip only rolled his eyes good-naturedly and pulled it back out of her hand.
Then, carefully, as though he might break her, he reached out and rearranged her fingers, and Norah was reminded of how nice it had felt to have her hand in his while they had danced on the beach.
Phillip slowed and glanced up at her, and for a long moment, they locked gazes.
What did he wish to say?
Norah would have given nearly anything to know.
“Phillip? Norah?”
They both turned toward Lady Freya’s voice. Norah was annoyed at the interruption until she saw how white Lady Freya’s face was.
“Prince Lucas of Maricanta has sent a message,” she said, sounding somewhat breathless. “He says the merpeople have heard the pirates speaking of finding a princess with red hair.”