Chapter 17 #2
I turn to Sasha. “Perhaps I should look into some sort of hex that would bar all men from the shop. What do you think?”
“What’s the thing with causation and correlation?” she says.
“Correlation does not imply causation,” the pirate and I dutifully recite. I glare at him. He smiles at me.
“Yeah, that,” Sasha says. “Just because two men have come in today and annoyed you doesn’t mean that all men who come into the shop will annoy you. Therefore, you shouldn’t bar all men in order to sort out your problem.”
“Maybe I should anyway. I suspect, after all,” I grumble, “that I have a few more annoying men to look forward to before this thing is through.”
“My dear princess, surely you don’t mean to employ that I, the royal prince of Parciful, am an annoyance?” Driz says, sounding genuinely upset.
“No, Driz,” I say, patting him on the shoulder. In fact, I haven’t implied any such thing; I’ve said it flat out.
“Well, good,” he says, subsiding. “I did come in the hopes that…well, you know.”
“I know,” I sigh.
“It would be so convenient, don’t you see,” he adds, morosely.
“It would,” I agree.
Sasha is staring at us with wide eyes. “What would?”
The pirate snorts. “It’s no secret the royal house of Parciful has been trying to get in good with the royal house of the Widdenmar for generations.”
“Ohhhh,” Sasha breathes.
“My dear Tanadelle’s sister, Crown Princess Varshima, was betrothed to the duke of Darstin for years,” Driz explains. “And married now, quite happily, they say. But Tanadelle…”
“Unengaged,” I break in. “Unbetrothed, unencumbered. Shimmy—erm, Crown Princess Varshima—hates to travel and do all the, you know, stuff.” I wave my hands, trying to indicate the vast and endless list of commitments I keep on behalf of the royal house.
“Mother and Father are generally too busy pitting the ministers of the Great Chamber against each other and moving from palace to palace. And I…I don’t like balls, or politics, or any of it, really. So I do the…the glad-handing.”
Silence falls in my little room. The fire crackles and pops in the hearth. I take a sip of my tea, now grown rather tepid. I hate that I just made my life sound so small.
“I suppose we’re not going to get engaged?” Driz finally says, a little mournfully.
“I am sorry, Driz; I don’t think so.” There’s no real need for me to be married off to secure favorable trade partnerships with any of the other island nations of the Shining Realm, and as I haven’t ever shown much interest in being involved in politics to any extent, my parents have been reasonably accommodating; Shimmy married for love and political capital; I’ve made my parents promise they won’t make me marry unless I want it. And I don’t want to marry Driz.
I clear my throat. “Well, Driz, what’s your plan now?”
“I don’t know,” he says, perking up. “Your parents hired a griffin to get me here quickly, but we assumed we’d be heading home in state, and I dismissed it upon arrival. I suppose I’ll have to write to Father and ask for a procession to be sent up.”
The pirate makes a noise, rather like a snort, but Driz fortunately seems not to hear it, or interpret it aright.
“There’s a very nice coaching inn not far from the shop,” I say.
“I’m sure they’d be thrilled to host you for as long as you’d like to stay.
I wouldn’t mind having a friendly face around for however long this takes.
Not that you’d have to stay for…that is, I have no idea how long I’ll be here.
But if you wanted to, just for a while…it’d be quite nice to have you drop in and visit once in a while.
” We had been friendly when we were younger, after all—I really don’t mind Driz.
And it would be rather nice to have someone I’ve known longer than a week to talk to.
“Really, Tanadelle?” Driz says, looking sweetly hopeful.
“Not in that way,” I say, gently. “Just as a friend. And, honestly, just Tandy is fine. Really.”
“Of course,” he says, sounding—to be honest—a little relieved.
“What about you?” Sasha says, turning to the pirate. “Broken your curse yet?”
“Are you also cursed to remain within the confines of this tiny building?” Driz says, turning to the pirate.
“Different curse,” the pirate answers. “And no, I haven’t broken it. Perhaps if His Royal Highness would be willing to kiss me…” He trails off, suggestively.
Even in the dim light of my little room, I can see Driz is blushing furiously.
“It is true that the kiss of a prince can break a curse,” he begins.
“Or, that is, it could. It should. It might. It hasn’t yet.
Which is to say, I haven’t yet.” He coughs.
It’s reassuring to see that the pirate’s flirting isn’t just personally discombobulating.
“Is it a rather small curse?” he says, hopefully.
“He’s afraid of water,” Sasha says, rather gleefully.
“All water?” Driz says, incredulously.
“More like lots of water,” I add, with a little too much pleasure. “Quantities of water.”
“Large lakes,” Sasha says. “Inland seas.”
“And you a…a…privateer,” Driz says.
“You see the problem,” the pirate says.
“Ah,” Driz says. “Well, if it would help. It shouldn’t get around that I’m kissing scofflaws and breakwaters, you understand.
My people: We take maritime law very seriously.
I might even find myself in some sort of legal trouble, were it to become known that I kissed a pirate.
Not to mention, kraken forbear, I be successful; every rebate with a minor curse will come looking for reprieve, you know.
I can’t go around kissing everyone. I have duties to attend to. ”
I’m suddenly very, very keen to see if the pirate will go through with it and kiss Driz. “It won’t go beyond the confines of this room,” I say. “Right, Sasha?”
“Oh my great green dragon goddess,” she whispers. “I swear on my actual life I won’t say a word.”
Driz gets to his feet. “On the mouth, do you think? I can’t see that kissing someone on the hand or the cheek would be all that symbiotic, if you see what I mean.”
The pirate chuckles. “Indeed I do. Mouth it is. But you can’t bend me over your arm,” he adds, very seriously. “For one thing, I’m taller than you.”
Driz cocks his head thoughtfully. “I’ve never kissed anyone taller than I am,” he says.
“You could bend him over your arm,” Sasha tells the pirate.
“How many people have you kissed, Driz?” I say, suddenly worried. I figured it was reasonably normal for royal personages not to go around kissing other people, but if Driz has more experience than I have…
“Enough to know how to do it, whatever their height!” he says, his native confidence reasserting itself.
Driz takes the pirate by the shoulders and plants a long kiss on him.
It doesn’t look very passionate, but they both seem fully committed to it.
After a moment, Driz pulls away and gazes into the other man’s eyes very seriously. “Do you think it worked?”
“I could throw a bowl of water at you,” Sasha interjects. “Just to see what happens.”
The pirate pauses, and I get the sense that he is, truly, evaluating something only he can see or feel. He breathes in deeply, then releases Driz and turns to Sasha and me.
“What do you smell?” he says, rather unexpectedly.
“Um, books?” Sasha offers.
Not sure what he’s getting at, I sniff delicately. Books, dust. The strange, out-of-place scent of the sea. The herbs drying over my mantel. “What should I be smelling?” I ask.
The pirate sighs. “I’m afraid there’s no need to throw water at me; the curse isn’t broken. But thanks awfully for trying, Your Highness.”
“Oh, tsk. I feel as though we’re quite good friends now,” Driz says, smiling broadly.
“Drizen is fine. But”—he stands a little straighter—“much as you might feel compelled to spread about the glissom news that you have been blessed with the kiss of a prince of the realm, I’d really prefer you didn’t.
My people really do tend to rather frown upon, erm, the larcenous sorts of the high seas.
You understand. Can’t have this getting back to Parciful. ”
“Of course not,” the pirate says, smiling almost fondly at Driz. “We do tend to steer clear of Parciful in the ordinary course of things.” He glances at me and winks. “Much too fond of the stockade; very dim view of piracy.”
To be honest, I suddenly feel much more affectionate toward Driz, too. Not every prince of the realm would be willing to put his curse-breaking kisses to the test on a mere pirate.
“I suppose I’d better hie me off to that, did you say, inn? At least until my retinue arrives.”
Sasha shoots me a glance I have trouble interpreting. “I’ll take you, Your Highness.”
Ah, she wants to leave me alone with the pirate. No dice there.
“I suppose you’ll be leaving now, too?” I ask the pirate. “Forever?”
“I’d really rather not,” he says, calmly. “I’d like to see how this all turns out.”
I sigh, heavily. “Why, for the love of unicorns?”
He grins at me, his smile bright in the dim light.
“Your parents sent you this prince. I expect they’ll be sending another prince up once they hear His Worshipful Grace here didn’t get the job done.
And another and another, until your heart’s desire is unlocked and you’re finally free to walk away. ”
I drop my gaze to my now-cold tea. He is, I fear, right.
“I don’t necessarily need a prince,” I mumble.
“Remind me,” he continues, looking like the cat who caught the canary, “how many princes of the realm are there?”
I close my eyes and then open them again, and focus on my hands.
“Seven,” I say. “Not counting my sister, there are seven princes of the realm.”
“Oh, right,” Sasha says. “It’s a title, not a gender thing. I keep forgetting. So, seven, huh?”
I look up. Sasha and Driz are watching me with something akin to sympathy. The pirate, however? His expression is best described as gleeful.
“As for why I’m staying?” he says, his eyes glinting in the firelight. He leans forward and I find I can’t tear my eyes from his. “I’d like to see this through to the end. If today’s any sort of preview, it should be extremely entertaining.”