Chapter 21
Hamish Twiston-Gar-Beck, crown prince of the Kingdom of the Two Mountains and one of the most distressing humans I’ve ever had the misfortune of having to spend time around.
Where Driz is loud but good-natured, Hamish is simply…
loud. He’s six months older than I am and, for some reason, has decided that six months has bestowed upon him the wisdom of the ages.
This is a decision he made when he was eight years old.
He is, in a word, pompous. A pompous, fatuous, complete and utter ass.
“It is well that your parents called upon me,” he announces. “I, naturally, could not divest myself of all my royal duties immediately, but I was able to come as quickly as was possible, under the circumstances. You understand.”
“Yes, of course,” I murmur, trying not to smile. “The duties of the crown prince of the Kingdom of the Two Mountains are many indeed.”
“Indeed,” he says. He flashes a look at the pirate, raises an eyebrow, and returns his attention to me. I resist the urge to mouth an apology for his rudeness. To the pirate. Hen’s teeth, I’ve been in Little Pepperidge for too long.
“Am I to understand that you have been the most unfortunate victim of an unbreakable curse?”
“You are,” I say, keeping my voice even and noncommittal. Best not to give Hamish anything to work with. Anything more than what he already has, which is (a) my cursed state and (b) my parents’ blessing to try to break that curse. Which is quite a lot, admittedly.
“A curse so powerful, so secure, that only the kiss of a prince of the blood can break it.” He’s not asking; he’s telling.
“Perhaps,” I say. “Prince of the blood” is a very, very old-fashioned way of saying “prince of the realm,” so it’s no surprise Hamish refers to himself thusly. I decide it’s probably best not to mention Driz has already given it a go. Hamish is notably a little insecure.
“Terribly foolish of you, you know. Unaccountably careless. It’s a wonder your parents aren’t furious.”
“I suspect they are.”
“I would never,” he adds.
“Of course not.”
“We’re awfully careful in the Kingdom of the Two Mountains, you know.”
“I do.”
“Why, no member of the royal house has touched a coin in three hundred years.”
“It was a key.”
He gasps. “Even worse! Tanadelle, honestly…honestly.” He trails off, shaking his head, completely astonished by my confession.
“And now I’m here, in this mist-forsaken town in the very middle of the uncivilized world to bestow upon you a kiss! Tanadelle, it’s all so dreadfully inconvenient. I have things to do.”
“I know, Hamish—I do appreciate you coming all this way—”
“No, but you see, it’s not only that, although that is extremely irritating. But, Tanadelle, if the kiss works…” He trails off significantly.
“I know,” I sigh. “We’ll likely have to wed.”
“Yes! And I can’t wed you; there’s already someone else. We’re not affianced, but we have an understanding of many years’ duration!”
“Oh, Hamish—that’s lovely. Congratulations.”
“She’s not exactly happy about this…this particular circumstance, Tanadelle! I believe I’m quite in love with her, but if I kiss you and the curse breaks…Well, you see the awkward situation I find myself in.”
Yes, it would be a diplomatic nightmare to sort out.
“What if I’m not in love with her?” he continues, looking aggrieved.
“I feel quite certain I am, but then this situation arose, and now, if I kiss you and the curse breaks—by my mother’s garters, woman, don’t you see?
I’ll have been in love with you all this time, and not my dear Chrisellum…
For mercy’s sake, Tanadelle, did you absolutely have to get yourself cursed? ”
“I didn’t mean to, of course,” I say, trying to sound more understanding than I feel.
“Yes, but you did, and now I have to kiss you!” he repeats.
“The other one already tried it, you know,” the pirate breaks in. I put my head down on my desk.
“The…other one?” Hamish asks, perplexed.
“The loud one with the intriguing vocabulary,” the pirate says, waving a lazy hand. “Drizzle. Drazzle. Drippit.”
“Am I to understand,” Hamish says, turning to me, his brow black, “that that boorish, arrogant fool Drizen has already kissed you?”
“Thanks, you,” I say to the pirate. “Yes,” I tell Hamish. “It didn’t work.”
“I would assume not. Drizen is unworthy.”
“Now, see here!” booms a voice from behind Hamish, and I groan. “That’s awful unkind, Hamey.”
“Hamey!” Hamish shouts incredulously, spinning round. “You dare refer to the prince of the Two Mountains, heir presumptive, crown prince, and marquess of Senetal, as Hamey?!”
“Tanadelle and I have always been friendly,” Driz continues, loudly. “It’s no wonder it didn’t work; the curse is all about true love, or some such. Tanadelle and I, well…” He looks at me and smiles, rather fondly. “We’re really better off as friends.”
Suddenly I hear a thumping coming from the ceiling above. We all look up, surprised.
“Do you mind?” Sasha yells down the stairs.
I resist the urge to tell all three men to shove off, stomp upstairs, and ask Sasha to behave herself. I can feel the beginnings of a headache coming on.
“Do you have another prince stashed up there?” Hamish says, returning his attention to me. He then flicks a pained glance at the pirate. “Or perhaps more scandalously underdressed men lying about?”
“Thank you,” the pirate says.
“That’s my assistant upstairs,” I sigh. “She’s having a day. You wouldn’t understand.”
Hamish waves Sasha’s invisible concerns off and steps forward.
“We may as well get on with it,” he says, sounding profoundly unhappy about the situation. “I’m already extremely bored and very irritated. And if this works…”
“It probably won’t,” I say.
“Yes, but in case it does, I really must insist that the news be conveyed to my beloved…that is, the woman I believe I love. It will be terribly embarrassing if I am not in love with her after all, you see. Lord’s mercy, Tandy.
In any event, the news must be conveyed that I shall have to break our understanding and marry the most foolish princess in the Shining Realm, and I shall not do it myself.
After all, I’m not the reckless fool who got herself cursed. ” He gazes around at the bookstore.
“And in such a place,” he adds, for good measure.
I can’t imagine that Hamish and I are bound by the shackles of true love, given that every interaction we’ve ever had has begun with him suggesting that I’m not especially intelligent or interesting, and generally ends with him expressing profound relief that we needn’t see each other again for some time.
I don’t feel that agreeing to his demand will cost me much.
“Very well,” I say, gently. I stand, and he approaches my desk and leans across it, takes my face in his hands, squeezes his eyes almost offensively tightly shut, and presses his lips against mine for a fraction of a second.
The room falls very silent. I hear the bells in the market square chime the quarter hour.
“Is that it?” he says, pulling away. “Have you ruined absolutely everything?”
“I don’t think so,” I say.
He snorts. “Thank the merciful mountain sprites.” He sighs. “Although, if you don’t mind, I’d prefer to test it out—after all, you did get yourself cursed in the first place. It’s not that I don’t trust your judgment, but you understand. I presume there’s some method of verification.”
The pirate snorts. “Notarized letter, Your Most Serene Highness?” he suggests. I shoot him a look. Hamish ignores him.
“Of course,” I say, squashing the urge to tell Hamish to go away and leave me alone now that he’s kissed me. I step out from behind the desk, walk to the door, and pull it open. The cool autumn air smells of wet leaves and woodsmoke.
I raise a hand and push against the invisible barrier.
The uncanny sensation of pushing against nothing more solid than the bright blue sky outside greets me. “See?” I say, leaning against the invisible barrier. I presume I look a little foolish, but needs must.
He sighs in relief.
“Sirrah,” Driz says, from somewhere behind us, “it’s really quite rude to be so clearly aggrieved that your paltry excuse for a kiss didn’t break the princess’s dread curse.”
“Aggrieved? My good sir,” Hamish says, red flaring in his cheeks as he turns to Driz, “I’m the very opposite of aggrieved!”
“He meant ‘relieved,’ ” I say quickly.
“What I am is annoyed,” Hamish says, his voice dangerously loud.
I have to force myself not to roll my eyes.
Interesting; as a working royal, I have spent my life schooling my expressions to the point that it is second nature for me to keep my opinions off my face.
Several weeks in Little Pepperidge and I’m having to rein myself in.
Whatever happens going forward, I’m going to have to spend a month relearning how to conduct myself appropriately.
How exhausting to contemplate.
“What you are,” Driz begins, “is—”
“Extremely helpful,” I break in. “We knew it wouldn’t work. Hamish, now you can go home secure in your feelings for…for…”
“Chrisump,” the pirate supplies.
“Chrysalis,” Driz suggests.
“Chrisellum,” Hamish shouts. “You insult her very name—”
“It’s a terribly complex curse,” I continue, evenly. “I feel certain a kiss won’t break it, and we’re not in love. You’re in love with someone else. I’ve asked my parents to stop sending princes and find a sorcerer instead. Several times now.”
The only response I’ve had from them is a letter telling me not to worry, that they have the situation under control. And, now, two princes.
Driz and Hamish are now, worryingly, squaring off—in the cramped vestibule of my little bookshop. “I have never insulted—” Driz is saying, while Hamish reels off his beloved’s entire, very long, patronym.
“Oy,” I yelp. “You are absolutely not permitted to get into a fight here. You’ll bring down half the bookcases and probably kill yourselves in the process. If you must hiss and spit at each other, do me the favor of taking it outside.”
“I beg your pardon, madam,” Hamish yells, turning to me. “I resent the implication that I am a cat, having a fight with another cat.”
“I am no felon!” Driz adds.
“Feline,” the pirate adds, helpfully.
“For the love of the great horned dragon, you two,” I snap, my patience at an end. “Knock it off.”
“Madam, this…this roughage insulted your honor,” Driz says, his eyes snapping with anger.
“I did no such thing, you blithering buffoon!” Hamish yells.
“By the power of the great volcano,” comes a deep and terrifyingly resounding voice behind us, “cease!”
As a single body, the four of us whirl around. Sasha is standing behind us, an almost unholy red light flickering in her eyes, the spikes that run across her skull and down her back standing to point. I have never seen a dracone in a fury before, and I hope never to again. It is horrifying.
“I am trying to concentrate here!” Sasha shouts, her voice making my knees tremble violently.
She glares at us, faint wisps of smoke curling from her nostrils.
“My dear young lady,” Driz says first, sounding as though he’s near tears. “I do beg your pardon.”
“Don’t beg my pardon,” she snarls. “Just stop being assholes.”
With that, she turns and sweeps back up the stairs. I sag against the wall in relief.
“Why…why have you got a dragon in this cursed bookshop?” Hamish says, his voice trembling.
“A dracone,” I say, swallowing my fear and trying to force myself to sound reasonably normal.
“A teenager,” the pirate adds, helpfully.
“She’s usually quite…quite…”
“Mopey,” the pirate suggests.
“Helpful,” I amend, shooting him a glare. He winks at me.
“This is madness,” Hamish says. “I’m leaving.” He turns to me. “I can’t depart until tomorrow at the earliest, and I have little hope that this hamlet can offer anything approaching appropriate accommodations.”
“If you’re staying,” Driz says, apparently having recovered from his anger, “the inn down the road’s quite nice. They named it after me.”
Hamish shoots Driz a look of withering contempt.
“Seeing as you’re staying, that is,” Driz continues, oblivious. “Delicious steak-and-ale pie.”
“I’ll write and inform your parents at once,” Hamish says. “And my parents. That I was…that I was unable to break the curse. For better and for worse, I suppose.”
“Really, Hamish,” I say, a bit more gently, “you were never going to break the curse. It’s not yours to break.”
“I shan’t tell my beloved, however,” he adds, grimly. “About the kiss, that is.”
After a bit more talking, Driz leads Hamish out, having forgotten or not caring that Hamish referred to him as a blithering buffoon mere minutes before, reassuring him that the local beer is really quite good.
I stand in the doorway, watching the two make their way across the square, and then lean against the doorframe, suddenly exhausted.
“How many more do you think your parents are going to send?”
I close my eyes for a moment, search myself for my last dreg of inner strength, then turn and face the pirate.
“You know. Princes,” he says, as though it isn’t clear what he’d meant.
“Perhaps since these two haven’t worked, they’ll give up,” I say, though I don’t for a moment believe that.
“It’s awfully entertaining,” he says. “You might inspire a war, you know, if the rest are quite as bellicose as that one.”
“What a thought. Well, show’s over, for now,” I say. “Feel free to head out.”
He shrugs, and I try not to stare at the triangle of chest that flashes between the points of his collar as he does. “I don’t know; your depressed friend upstairs might really lose her temper if I stay long enough.”
“I’d really rather not try my curse—which, I needn’t remind you, means I can’t leave the premises—against a dracone-started fire within those same premises. Not today,” I say. “I haven’t got a very good track record with fire yet.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he says, grinning at me. “Imagine the rescue operation those two would mount.”
“Out, Smash. Or Crash. Whatever your name is. Out.”
“Bash,” he says equably, sauntering past me and out the door. “Not that you forgot.”
Irritatingly, he’s right. I hadn’t.