Chapter 11 #2
And since Henry was being greedy, he wanted even more than that.
He wanted to never be beaten again, to be treated by the world as a person who was valuable in his own right, and to find a profession that would not only support them but also make him feel respected.
He wanted to be a full-fledged, well-rounded human being worthy of Stefano’s love. Worthy of… of his own esteem.
That last idea nearly made Henry laugh out loud. It seemed even more far-fetched than his other impossible dreams.
Five minutes later, he came to the royal palace.
Although it was much smaller than the palace of King Cyrus, its identity was unmistakable.
It was still quite large, of course, constructed of white stone that shone in the sunshine.
While the Thanytsian palace hulked and looked forbidding, this one was grand and elegant.
Flower boxes graced its many large windows; bright flags fluttered on the parapets.
The palace was set far back from the boulevard, the grounds surrounded by an iron fence rather than a stone wall.
A broad driveway—made of crushed stone, lined with more flowers, and set off from the boulevard by an ornate gilded gate—led from the boulevard to the palace.
The gate stood wide open, although it was flanked by several uniformed guards.
A trickle of well-dressed people passed through the opening, some arriving, others departing.
Some strolled slowly, as if out for a pleasant walk, while others hurried, perhaps in a rush to attend meetings or relay messages.
Most of the grounds consisted of well-tended lawn and low shrubbery, with tall trees on either side that continued behind the building.
Decorative features dotted the lawn, including several large fountains, each with statuary.
Off to one side was an ornamental pond that contained an island with a pavilion.
It was very scenic, Henry supposed. Quite a few people walked slowly along the edges of the pond, pausing to admire the flowers or to toss handfuls of something into the water.
The island could be reached by an arched bridge that was, like the pavilion, gilded to match the front gate.
Flowering vines climbed the pavilion supports and crept onto its peaked roof.
A group of four women in colorful dresses sat on benches within the structure.
Henry was too far away to see any details, and he certainly couldn’t hear their conversation.
But one of them occasionally waved at those who were walking around the pond’s perimeter.
“The princess,” Henry muttered under his breath.
He realized that he’d been standing in the center of the boulevard for some time, just staring. Fortunately no carriages or horses had come along to run him over, but both the guards at the gates and some of the passersby were watching him.
Henry squared his shoulders and marched to the gate.
Marched through the gate, in fact… or very nearly so. One of the guards put up a hand to stop him. “What is your business here?” His tone was gruff. Since he wore a helmet with a faceplate, it was impossible to see his expression, but his eyes were narrowed.
Luckily, Henry had learned court manners. He gave a very small bow and hoped his smile looked sincere. “I am a visitor to Fraysia, sir. There is much to admire in your city, but the palace is especially beautiful. I would like a closer look at the grounds, if I may.”
“Where are you from?”
Henry knew his accent gave him away as a foreigner but hoped that the guard’s question meant he hadn’t been recognized as Thanytsian.
For a frantic moment, Henry racked his brain in search of plausible answers.
He’d been allowed to sit in on Stefano’s geography lessons when they were boys but, confident that Stefano would do well at those lessons without his help, Henry had never paid much attention.
It was maths that caused Stefano to struggle, so Henry saved his focus for that.
With great relief, Henry remembered a tiny nation that lay considerably east of both Thanytsia and Fraysia.
Stefano corresponded frequently with some of the university lecturers there.
“I am from Ostrela,” he told the guard, hoping that the man was as ignorant of geography as Henry was.
If the guard started questioning him about his supposed homeland, he would have to manufacture plausible answers.
“And why did you come to our country?”
“I’m a wanderer, sir. I wish to see as much of the world as possible.”
The guard’s snort indicated his opinion of this, but he gave a tiny nod and gestured for Henry to move forward into the palace grounds.
“Be respectful, now,” he warned. “And listen for the horn that blows three times. That means the gate will be closing shortly. Make your way out immediately.” He didn’t ask about the fabric-draped cage.
“Of course. Thank you.” Henry bowed again.
It wasn’t a long walk to the pond. But with each step, Stefano’s cage seemed to become heavier and heavier, until Henry had to exert all his will to keep going.
He added more items to his list of hopeless wishes: he wanted to lie down in the soft grass with Stefano’s cage cradled in his arms and fall back into the dream in which Stefano was human again. He never wanted to wake up.
But he kept walking until he was close enough for a good look at the quartet on the island.
They were young women, all dressed nicely but not in the sort of finery that Thanytsian women wore to court.
Although their dresses lacked excessive ornamentation, each was a different vibrant color, making the four of them look like a large bouquet of flowers.
The princess’s dress was fuchsia silk, her long dark hair done up with matching bows.
She was very pretty. And also, Henry realized, very young.
Really more a girl than a woman. She and her companions paid Henry no mind as they tossed a golden ball from one person to another, their laughter carrying across the water like music.
Perhaps Stefano could grow to love the princess.
They might be happy together, ruling their united kingdoms wisely and justly, guiding Philip’s heir to follow their example.
They would throw glittering parties, have a palace full of loving children, spend their free time sitting together on the island and watching the birds and insects when they weren’t waving to an adoring public.
The metal bands made Henry’s heart ache so badly that he nearly cried out.
He remained silent, however, as he approached the bridge, and inside the cage, Stefano was silent as well. Henry paused for a moment to uncover the cage and open the top, then set one foot on the bridge.
Rough hands immediately grabbed his upper arm and yanked him so hard that Henry nearly fell. He dropped the cage, and before he could determine whether Stefano might be injured, another set of hands seized his other arm and began dragging him away.
“No!” Henry shouted as he tried to pull free and twist around to see his captors. “I must—”
“Assassin!” shouted a woman nearby.
Henry was pulled completely off his feet and yanked back so hard that he feared his shoulders would become disjointed. He growled and scrabbled fruitlessly for footing. “I’m not here to harm anyone,” he shouted. “I only meant to—”
A heavy blow to the side of his head momentarily stunned him.
By the time he’d regained his senses, he was face down in the grass, struggling for breath as someone tightly bound his arms behind him.
He caught a glimpse of his attackers—two large men in what he presumed were guard uniforms. He spat out a mouthful of greenery and mud and tried to speak, but one of the guards hit him again before shoving a length of dirty cloth into his mouth.
Gagged and barely conscious, Henry couldn’t resist as a bag was pulled over his head, he was lifted to his feet, and dragged away.