Violet Eyes (4 page)

“Then you have not been searching the world to find yourself a bride?” she asked inquisitively.

Her boldness was surprising to him. Neither of her parents would have dared to question him like this. Maybe she was naïve, or maybe because they were close in age she felt some sort of connection with him. Richard shifted slightly on the hard, little bed. Or maybe …

“This is your bed, isn’t it?” he asked, opening his eyes again to try and catch her expression.

She nodded solemnly. Richard wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting. If he had had a similar mishap on the way to one of the kingdoms he had visited, any of the simpering princesses would have blushed to acknowledge that he had been placed in their room. A maiden’s room was private, a place where not even a father or brother would dare to disturb her.

Richard could not have told what devil suddenly possessed him, but he stared at her and asked, “You live here still because none wish to marry you?”

Violet looked at him oddly for a moment before understanding lit her eyes. Richard expected her to
blush, but instead all the color drained from her face, leaving her pale and shaking with rage. Richard stared into her blazing eyes and for one moment thought that she was going to strike him. He tensed, but instead of delivering the blow Violet rose hastily to her feet, knocking over the chair.

He reached out and caught her hand, instantly sorry for what he had said. “Forgive me; I am not myself. It was a bad jest, and I should not have uttered it. No doubt you have many suitors.”

She stared down at him, her limbs still shaking and her eyes flaying him alive. And in that moment something told Richard that had he not been a prince, she would have struck him.

“I am sorry, truly. I do not feel quite well, and talk of my wedding upset me.”

At that, Violet seemed to relax. But she didn’t move, and Richard kept hold of her hand. A long minute passed, and neither of them stirred. Finally, Violet gave a little sigh, and Richard let go of her hand. She righted the chair, then hesitated. “I should let you rest.”

“Please, don’t go. At least allow me to explain.”

She sat slowly, warily. “Why are you so upset about your wedding?”

“You were right: I have been searching the world for a bride. However, it is my parents’ choice as to which princess I shall marry. I have delivered my parents’ invitation to many kings, inviting their daughters to my home. There my parents plan to test the
ladies, because it is a royal decree that I marry a girl of the greatest delicacy, the greatest sensitivity.”

“So, the rumors are true. There is a competition.”

“Yes, I guess you could call it that. I call it abominable.”

“You are a prince, though. Shouldn’t the choice of a bride be yours?”

Richard laughed harshly at that. “My dear, it is because I am a prince that I can make fewer choices than a common man, fewer choices than you will have when the time comes. For princes and princesses marriage isn’t about love or companionship or even family. It is about kingdoms and treaties and wars and alliances. My parents understand that. The rulers of the other kingdoms understand that.”

“But Cambria is a powerful country. We don’t need an alliance with another country.”

“Of course we do. Other countries know how powerful we are. Some fear us, some admire us, but they’re all eager to be our friends. Even the king of Lore will be sending his daughter here.”

Violet paused. “But why would your parents ever consider an alliance with Lore? They attacked our country in the last war, and we crushed them.”

“Yes, but that defeat was more than fifteen years ago. They have been rebuilding, and their army is larger and better equipped than ever.”

“But Lorians are treacherous,” Violet protested, eyes blazing.

“As my parents well know. They only took the throne when the former king and queen of Cambria were assassinated in their own castle. Assassinated by the king of Lore.”

Violet paused, as if thinking that through. “I didn’t know that,” she said at last. “The Lorians’ treachery is even deeper than I had imagined.”

Richard nodded. “Yes. My parents were nobles, but that was all. The entire royal family of Cambria was murdered within an hour. My parents were the highest ranking nobles alive, and they took the throne. The outrage against the atrocity was what helped us win the war. The people of Cambria can fight like lions when wronged.” He hid a smile, thinking of how she, a commoner, had nearly struck a prince who had insulted her. The spirit of Cambria was alive and well in her.

Violet pressed her hand to her forehead. “I hope you do not marry the princess of Lore. I think it would be a disgrace.”

He sighed. “It would ensure peace. If I marry someone else, there is the real possibility that we shall be at war with Lore again in our lifetimes. Of course, that’s true of at least half a dozen other kingdoms as well. Sometimes I think, rather than allowing me to choose a bride and risk an affront to some kingdom, my parents devised this ridiculous challenge to find the most sensitive princess.”

Violet shook her head. “Well, I wish you happiness with your future bride, whomever she may be.”

“Thank you,” Richard replied. His head had begun to pound, and he closed his eyes once more. Within moments he was asleep.

Violet kept a watchful eye on Prince Richard as she went about her chores. He was sleeping fitfully, and occasionally he cried out. She found herself pitying him. To have so much power and yet be so powerless must be terrible! It baffled her, and she prayed that his parents might choose a wife whom he could love.

Father Paul arrived just before dinner, and when William escorted him inside, the priest’s eyes widened upon seeing the figure of the prince.

“Thomas didn’t tell me the patient was Prince Richard!” he exclaimed.

“We didn’t know until after he had left to fetch you,” William explained.

Violet helped her mother prepare dinner as Father Paul examined Richard. The prince was groggy when he awoke and seemed less clear-headed than earlier. His eyes were bright, and his cheeks were stained red.

“The wound looks good; you did a fine job of tending to it,” Father Paul told Sarah. To William he added, “He seems to be getting the onset of a fever, though.”

“I was afraid of that. He was out in that storm last night,” William said.

“The best thing to do is make sure he has plenty of liquids and to keep him warm. I’ll be back to check on him in the morning.”

Sarah began to cough and moved off to a corner. Violet stared after her mother in concern. The coughing fit lasted longer than usual, and each cough seemed to shake her body like a leaf in a storm.

“Sarah, what ails you, woman?” Father Paul asked.

“I’m fine, Father,” she answered, eyes watering.

He narrowed his eyes. Before he could say anything, though, Richard spoke.

“Father?”

“Yes?” Paul asked, turning his whole attention back to his patient.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone that I am here. This is not exactly the homecoming I had in mind,” Richard muttered.

“You just rest easy, son. We’ll all keep your secret as long as we can,” the kindly priest assured him.

C
HAPTER
T
HREE

That night Prince Richard got worse. They did their best to keep him warm, and Violet bathed his face every half hour with a cool cloth. The fever was high, though, and he was muttering in a haze, clearly not even sure where he was. She dozed fitfully, sitting in the chair next to the bed.

In the morning, when Father Paul returned, he took one look at Richard, and the worry on his face sent a bolt of fear through Violet.

Leaving Richard in the care of the priest and her mother, Violet went to the barn to feed the horses. She was tired, and the cool air helped clear her head. Mostly, though, she needed a reprieve from the watching and waiting. Both Bessie and Baron greeted her expectantly.

“Sorry, I don’t have any apples today,” she said as she forked hay into their troughs. When she was
finished, she leaned against Baron’s stall. “He’s not doing so well. Father Paul’s looking after him, though. He’s good at doctoring, Father Paul. He’ll fix him, you’ll see.”

“Violet?”

She turned and saw Thomas entering the barn. “What is it?”

“Your father wants you back at the house.”

She pushed off from the stall and followed Thomas back to the house in silence. Her heart sank when she saw her father waiting for her. His face was pale.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Father Paul said that as long as the fever breaks soon, Prince Richard should be all right. He says, though, that we have to watch in case his temperature drops too low. We’d have to bring it up then.”

Violet nodded, but she could tell there was more. She waited, and finally her father continued.

“Your mother, she had one of her coughing spells again. She coughed up some blood. Father Paul has restricted her to her bed, and he’s looking after her. You’ll have to take over caring for the prince until Father Paul can make your mother well.”

Violet was both frightened and relieved. It scared her that her mother’s coughing was getting worse, and that now there was blood. But she was hopeful that Father Paul could heal her. “I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will, Daughter. You’ve always been a good girl.”

The rest of the day Violet felt as though she were moving through a fog. She prepared simple meals of bread and cheese for herself, Thomas, and her father, but neither of the patients would take any food. She did some mending while watching her mother and Richard. Occasionally her father or Thomas would come in from the fields and allow Violet a few minutes to walk outside and stretch her legs.

When night at last came, Violet slept on a crude mattress on the floor while her father took the first turn sitting up and watching. She could hear her mother cough from time to time, but for the most part Violet managed to sleep. She didn’t know what time it was when her father shook her shoulder, but Violet sat up, instantly awake.

“Your mother is sleeping just fine. The prince’s fever has broken, but now he’s cold as ice. Help me get him warm.”

Violet nodded and took the blankets from her mattress and grabbed the extra ones that they stored in a trunk for the occasional guest or really cold weather. Together Violet and her father tucked the blankets around the prince, who was cool to the touch and shaking. He awoke groggily. “I’m so cold,” he whispered.

Violet hurried to heat some broth for him and then held the bowl, helping him drink from it. William added more wood to the fire until it was a large, crackling blaze. In the light from the hearth Violet could see how tired he was. William’s eyes
drooped, and he swayed slightly on his feet.

“Your turn to get some sleep, Father. I’ll watch him.”

“Are you sure?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.

“Yes.”

He hesitated for a moment before giving in. “Good, try to get him warm. Wake me if he gets worse or you need anything.”

“I will,” she promised.

Violet watched as her father went and lay down gently next to her mother. Sarah stirred slightly but did not waken. Within a minute Violet could tell by her father’s deep breathing that he was also asleep. Then she turned all of her attention back to Prince Richard.

He was awake and looking at her. His eyes were clearer than they had been since the fever started. “Why am I so cold?” he asked her.

“Father Paul said that this might happen after your fever passed. You will be all right. See, you have lots of thick, warm blankets around you, and the fire is high.”

“So cold,” he said, closing his eyes.

A minute passed, and the room became warmer, but Prince Richard started shaking harder. Violet laid a hand on his forehead, and it was like touching ice. She rubbed her hands hard together until they were hot and then placed them on his face, willing the warmth from her skin into his. He murmured slightly.

A memory came to her. Once as a child she had been sick and so very cold. Her parents had put her in their bed, laying her between them with the blankets over them all. Violet remembered how the heat from their bodies had warmed her when the fire and the blankets had not. She stared down at Richard. She had promised her father that she would keep him warm.