been home to so many manifestations of the Unreal, with ghosts and monsters and abominations walking openly abroad. Rooms that devoured their inhabitants, and doors that suddenly led to strange new worlds. That was all part of the past now, thanks to King William’s legendary grandparents, Good King Viktor and Queen Catriona, who together put down a rebellion by the Unreal, took away its power, and put the Wild Magic to sleep. For the good of all.
As Catherine and Malcolm finally drew near to the Court, they couldn’t help noticing that virtually all the corridors and passageways they passed through were packed with people—from servants to aristocrats and everyone in between, all of them chattering animatedly with one another. And all of them fell suddenly silent as the Princess and the Champion bore down on them. The conversation would of course start up again the moment the two of them were safely past and out of earshot. These people knew what was going on, even if Catherine and Malcolm didn’t. But no one would talk to them. In fact, people would look innocently at the two of them as they approached, and then back quickly away if they seemed to be getting too near. Some actually turned and ran rather than be pressed for information. Catherine was honestly baffled by such behaviour, being so universally beloved, but Malcolm thought he was beginning to understand. The Princess could throw a really quite remarkable temper tantrum, on the rare occasions when she couldn’t get her own way, with a tendency to smash anything she could get her hands on, and even assault people who didn’t back away fast enough.
He tried to slow down, so he could think things through in his usual slow and methodical way and work out what the hell was going on, but Catherine would have none of that. She was just too impatient, too desperate to know, and she hurried him ruthlessly on. That had always been her way, to meet her problems head-on.
• • •
W hen the Princess and the Champion finally reached the Court, they were both astonished to discover that the huge double doors were firmly closed. The two of them had been hurrying along hand in hand, but Malcolm now made a point of quietly but firmly separating their hands as they approached the doors . . . and the guards standing at attention before the doors. The King knew all about the closeness of their relationship—everybody did—but it wouldn’t do to flaunt it in public. Some things just weren’t done. Catherine didn’t give a damn, but Malcolm understood propriety. He had tried to explain it to Catherine once, and she had called him a very rude word.
They stopped before the closed double doors. They weren’t usually closed when Court was in session. In fact, neither Catherine nor Malcolm could ever recall seeing such a thing before. And now, instead of the two usual ceremonial guards, there were a dozen heavily armed guards, all of whom looked like experienced fighting men. Malcolm recognised a few of them from past border skirmishes. He addressed them by name, but they just stared coldly back at him. The man in charge ignored him completely, addressing himself solely to Catherine.
“Princess, it is regrettably necessary that you remain here, outside the Court, while I send in a message to inform the King that you have arrived.”
“We were summoned here by the King,” Malcolm said quickly, as storm clouds gathered in Catherine’s face. “What is going on here?”
“I have my orders,” said the guard, still looking only at Catherine. And from the way he said it, Malcolm could tell there was absolutely nothing to be gained by pressing the point. Catherine opened her mouth to say something that would undoubtedly only have made matters worse, but Malcolm grabbed her upper arm and squeezed it hard enough to make her wince, then led her a suitable distance away from the doors. Which then opened just long enough to allow a single guard to enter,
As Catherine and Malcolm finally drew near to the Court, they couldn’t help noticing that virtually all the corridors and passageways they passed through were packed with people—from servants to aristocrats and everyone in between, all of them chattering animatedly with one another. And all of them fell suddenly silent as the Princess and the Champion bore down on them. The conversation would of course start up again the moment the two of them were safely past and out of earshot. These people knew what was going on, even if Catherine and Malcolm didn’t. But no one would talk to them. In fact, people would look innocently at the two of them as they approached, and then back quickly away if they seemed to be getting too near. Some actually turned and ran rather than be pressed for information. Catherine was honestly baffled by such behaviour, being so universally beloved, but Malcolm thought he was beginning to understand. The Princess could throw a really quite remarkable temper tantrum, on the rare occasions when she couldn’t get her own way, with a tendency to smash anything she could get her hands on, and even assault people who didn’t back away fast enough.
He tried to slow down, so he could think things through in his usual slow and methodical way and work out what the hell was going on, but Catherine would have none of that. She was just too impatient, too desperate to know, and she hurried him ruthlessly on. That had always been her way, to meet her problems head-on.
• • •
W hen the Princess and the Champion finally reached the Court, they were both astonished to discover that the huge double doors were firmly closed. The two of them had been hurrying along hand in hand, but Malcolm now made a point of quietly but firmly separating their hands as they approached the doors . . . and the guards standing at attention before the doors. The King knew all about the closeness of their relationship—everybody did—but it wouldn’t do to flaunt it in public. Some things just weren’t done. Catherine didn’t give a damn, but Malcolm understood propriety. He had tried to explain it to Catherine once, and she had called him a very rude word.
They stopped before the closed double doors. They weren’t usually closed when Court was in session. In fact, neither Catherine nor Malcolm could ever recall seeing such a thing before. And now, instead of the two usual ceremonial guards, there were a dozen heavily armed guards, all of whom looked like experienced fighting men. Malcolm recognised a few of them from past border skirmishes. He addressed them by name, but they just stared coldly back at him. The man in charge ignored him completely, addressing himself solely to Catherine.
“Princess, it is regrettably necessary that you remain here, outside the Court, while I send in a message to inform the King that you have arrived.”
“We were summoned here by the King,” Malcolm said quickly, as storm clouds gathered in Catherine’s face. “What is going on here?”
“I have my orders,” said the guard, still looking only at Catherine. And from the way he said it, Malcolm could tell there was absolutely nothing to be gained by pressing the point. Catherine opened her mouth to say something that would undoubtedly only have made matters worse, but Malcolm grabbed her upper arm and squeezed it hard enough to make her wince, then led her a suitable distance away from the doors. Which then opened just long enough to allow a single guard to enter,
Similar Books
