A Posse of Princesses Read Free Page A

lady’s maid, something Rhis had never before had.
Elda had declared that she would choose a proper lady’s maid, but
unexpectedly Queen Hailen had intervened, and saw to the selection
herself.
    Rhis did not say anything, but she was
secretly glad. Elda’s own lady’s maid was a prim, sour-mouthed
woman who spied on servants and royalty alike, reporting
wrong-doings—real or assumed—to Elda. Instead of getting another
such person (who would, no doubt, write awful reports back to Elda
on every mistake Rhis made) she was introduced by her mother to a
quiet, calm-faced woman named Keris, with a sweet voice and quiet
ways.
    And so, at last, night fell. A terrific storm
raged outside the castle. Rhis lay in her bed listening to the wind
howl and rain and hail clatter against the windows. The rain itself
didn’t disturb her. Anyone who grew up in Nym knew that mountain
weather, though fierce, seldom lasted long. But she was so excited
she couldn’t sleep—and even if the night had been balmy and silent,
she suspected she’d still be lying awake.
    Finally, when the distant bell rang the
pattern for midnight, she gave up trying and clapped on her
glowglobe. She could at least read for a while, and daydream.
    She was just reaching for a book when she
heard a soft tapping at her door.
    She dashed across the cold stone floor.
“Who’s there?”
    The door opened, and to her surprise a tall
silhouette in pale blue emerged from the dark hallway and walked
into the light room—her sister Sidal.
    “I came to wish you a safe and happy
journey.” Sidal sat on the bed beside Rhis.
    As long as she could remember Sidal had been
tall and competent and a little remote, busy with her magic
studies. At an early age she had showed magical talent, and had
trained hard in order to take Mama’s place when it became
necessary. Rhis had also shown magical talent—but she’d never had
her sister’s interest in the hard work of becoming a mage.
    “Sidal,” Rhis asked doubtfully. “Do you think
I’m silly to wish for romance?”
    The silvery light of the glowglobe glinted in
her coronet of soft brown hair. Sidal was not pretty—no one in the
family was considered pretty. They all had long faces and strongly
marked bones—but right then, while she was looking out at the
rain-washed window, Rhis thought privately that Sidal was
beautiful. “I think,” the princess-mage said slowly, “that it
depends on what you mean by romance.”
    “Oh, like the ballads. Overcoming great odds
to find your true love, or doing great deeds to save him.
‘Adventure is tragedy triumphed!’ Or he does great deeds to win
you. Something dashing and heroic,” Rhis explained. “For love.”
    “Not great deeds.” Sidal gave a tiny shake of
her head. “Too many great deeds translate out to be great pain for
those who lost.”
    “Except it’s always villains who lose,” Rhis
said quickly. “They deserve to lose. When the heroes lose, then
it’s a tragedy, and I hate tragedies.”
    “The villains would think their losses
tragedy,” Sidal said with a rueful smile. “Of course there are
truly evil people in the world. The emperor of Sveran Djur is
reputed to be one, and I believe it, for he has done terrible
things with his magic. But there are so many others who set out
with the best intentions, or what they believe to be the best
intentions, and find themselves on the opposing side of others who
also have the best intentions. The people on each side, in their
own ballads, appear as heroes, and the other side as villains.”
    “I know. And Elda’s told me many times how
rulers agree that no one can rule a kingdom and be a mage. That
Mama had to sign a certain type of treaty, and cannot rule after
Papa dies. All just because of that emperor.” Rhis sighed. “That
doesn’t sound romantic. It sounds nasty.”
    “Wars and fighting and using magic for
coercion are always nasty.”
    “Well, I don’t want that. Since I have to
marry anyway, I just