Eternal Faith - Book 4 (The Ruby Ring Saga) (8 page)

The
owner, a woman in her thirties, had short black hair, and she was wearing
glasses. I quickly explained to her our extensive knowledge of medieval times,
and she seemed impressed.

“This
is a family dinner theater,” she said. “We feature staged medieval-style games,
sword-fighting, and jousting on horseback. Our cast consists of seventy actors
and twenty horses. People cheer for the good guys and boo the bad guys, and
lots of knights die in fake battles. It is all scripted and carefully
choreographed, of course. You will notice that each section of the theater is
color-coded, relative to the jousting knight’s colors so diners know which
knight to cheer for during the jousts and competitions.”

“We’d
love to audition,” I said.

“Can
you make us believe we’ve stepped back in time, to the era of kings, queens,
and knights?” she asked.

Victor
smiled. “I can play the part so efficiently that you will think I was born in
medieval times.”

“Great,”
she said. “I love your enthusiasm.”

She
handed each of us a thin script and gave us thirty minutes to study them. Victor
and I aced our auditions. But in order for Victor to land the role of king, he
needed to prove he could fight and properly ride a horse. He was more than
anxious to prove those skills and abilities.

“As
long as Victor can handle the horse, the job is his,” the owner said. “Our
horses can gallop up to thirty-five miles an hour in this enclosed space.”

I
smiled, knowing Victor would easily ace that part of the audition. “Victor has
been riding horses for a long, long time. He knows how to handle them safely,
and he’s quite the horseman.”

She
gazed at the arena. “We’ll see.”

I
was ready to root for my valiant and heroic king, especially when he came out
dressed like the knight in shining armor that he was, gleaming beneath the
dramatic arena lighting, with background music for even more effect.

Victor
sped toward the knights and hit one with a powerful blow to the chest, and the
man almost tumbled off.

“Let’s
see if he can stay on the horse if you do the same thing back,” the owner said
to one of the knights. “Can you handle it, Victor?”

“Yes,
milady.”

When
the blow hit Victor’s armor-covered chest, he didn’t even flinch.

“Good!”
she said. “Victor, drop the lance.” She looked at one of the workers on the
sidelines. “Give him some different weapons.” When the man nodded, she
continued. “Okay, men, once Victor is ready, please proceed.”

Victor
rode the horse like a champ and wielded a mace and sword. His sword-fighting
skills were amazing, and he put on quite the display as he successfully jousted
with five other knights from the realm. I anxiously watched the knights
wage mock battles, galloping toward Victor at full speed. Swords clanged,
shouts echoed, and sparks flew as the blades crashed into one another. A chorus
of cheers for Victor came from other workers on the sidelines.

“He’s
amazing!” the owner squealed. “Where’d he learn to fight like that? It’s like
he’s been doing it his whole life.”

“Um,
Victor really gets into this kind of stuff.”

“It’s
as if he was born for it.”

I
grinned. “One would think that.”

“He’s
definitely fits the part. He has the shoulder-length hair, the bright blue
eyes, the muscular build, and he can ride a horse, fight, and act. The women
are going to swoon when they see him.” She grabbed my arm. “I hope that’s not a
problem.”

“Absolutely
not,” I said.

Suddenly,
a woman screamed when a two-year-old ran into the arena, right into the path of
an oncoming stallion. I tried to use my powers, but they wouldn’t cooperate.
Somehow, a bubble suddenly incased the child, and the horse ran right over top
of him.

Everyone
ran over to the crying boy and examined him for injuries. Since they were
merely human, none of them could see the bubble.

“He’s
okay!” someone shouted.

“How’s
that possible? That horse trampled him.”

“It’s
a miracle,” someone else said.

“How
did this child get in here?” the owner said.

A
woman dressed like a princess glanced up at her. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t have
a babysitter,” she cried. “I promise it won’t happen again.”

“It
better not!” the owner yelled.

I
glanced up at Victor on his decorated horse. He lifted his visor and winked at me,
and I grinned, knowing he had saved the child.
“Thank you,”
I mouthed,
and he grinned.

So,
just like that, we both had more suitable jobs at Fairfield Castle. Victor had
landed the role of the lifetime, to play a king, and I would be his queen. We
were both thrilled they let us keep our own names.

Victor
lit up every time we went to work. He enjoyed wearing the elaborate, fancy
costumes. It reminded him of home, and it was something he could connect to in a
world that was still foreign to him. We even accessorized to make us look more
realistic. I wore necklaces, earrings, brooches, and rings, and I even went to
great lengths to braid my hair in the most popular medieval styles, something
I’d learned back at our real castle as a real queen. I usually wore a long,
velvet gown, and a beautiful crown adorned my head.

Everyone
loved Victor’s charismatic personality. He was so handsome in his medieval
outfit: gold crown and a fur-lined, red cape that screamed royalty. His blue
tunic stretched across his broad chest, and a detailed family crest was
stitched into the material. He wore brown boots, and a matching belt circled
his lean waist. He played the part to a tee, just as I had suspected he would,
and he instantly became the most popular actor, a real fan favorite who was
surrounded by people after every show.

Lynn,
one of the maidens, seemed jealous of all the attention we received, and I
often spotted her rolling her eyes at me. “You wouldn’t know medieval glamour
if it bit you in your pompous butt,” she said to me one day.

“Trust
me,” I said, “I would. I lived and breathed it—literally.”

“You’re
a poor choice for a queen. You don’t know the first clue about it.”

I
smirked at her comment, for I was a
real
queen and had lived as one for
more than a year in Tastia’s royal castle. “There are some things books and the
Internet just can’t teach you, Lynn, I said. Not even acting classes are
guaranteed to help. I know more from firsthand experience than you’ll ever
know.”

She
laughed. “I doubt that. I’ve spent ten years in theater.”

Just
as I started to really tear into her and tell her off, Victor pulled me back,
and the woman slipped into the approaching crowd. Nothing pissed me off more
than petty people, but I was glad he stopped me before the whole thing turned
into a hair-pulling, scratching royal cat-fight.

The
production manager motioned us over to the stairs, and we climbed up to the
tiny stage and sat in oversized, throne-style chairs with red velvet cushions. The
manager made an announcement that all patrons were to stay down on the platform
and that we would answer as many questions as we could. Even though we had a
script, we also knew enough to do a little improv and some ad-libbing of our
own. With my poofy dress, nobody even suspected I was pregnant. I had informed
the owner and she was fine with it. She even said I could take off up to three
months afterward if I so desired. Before we knew it, the questions and comments
were coming from every direction.

“Queen
Sarah is, without a doubt, very beautiful,” a man with a black beard said, “but
she’s just another pretty face. What made you choose her out of all the fair
maidens in your vast kingdom?”

Victor
stared deeply into my eyes and reached his hand out.

I
slowly stood as my gaze connected with his.

“She
has a spirit like no other woman in my kingdom. She is compassionate and kind, and
she touches lives wherever she goes. She also put me in my place like no maiden
has ever dared to.”

I
smiled, and he shot me a wink.

Victoriously,
he held my hand up high. “This woman is
my
world!” he shouted, and everyone
cheered.

“King
Victor, you’re so convincing as a medieval warrior king!” a man said. “The
fight scenes were amazing. What theater experience do you have?”

I
smiled and answered on my husband’s behalf. “King Victor has no acting
experience. I assure you he is just being himself.”

“How
did you meet your king?” an old woman asked with a big smile.

“It
was love at first sight, but he did kidnap me, throw me in a dungeon, and force
me to marry him,” I said in the most dramatic voice I could muster.

The
woman’s brow shot up. “He did what?”

“I
most certainly did not
force
her,” Victor said. “She was after an
ancient piece of jewelry.”

“A
thief!” someone shouted.

“No,
I planned to return it. I just needed to
borrow
it.”

“Borrow
what?” a woman with a long ponytail asked.

I
held up my hand. “This ring. I duped him out of it and ran.”

The
blonde woman couldn’t stop staring. “It looks so real.”

“Nah,
it’s just costume jewelry,” somebody mumbled.

“How
did you get away with the ring?” another asked.

“I
devised a plan, then escaped from our wedding reception,” I said.

“I
chased her because I wanted her, but also because my enemy wished to kill her.”

“He
literally saved my life,” I said, meeting his gaze, “and although I fought him
the entire time, he never gave up one me.”

Victor
squeezed my hand. “The two of us grew close while running from a common enemy
who wished to destroy us. We were poisoned and left to die, but through a
series of, uh...chance events, we survived. I knew then that Queen Sarah was the
love of my life.” He kissed my lips. “I knew by the look in her eyes that she
loved me just as much as I loved her.”

“So,
Queen Sarah, you forgave him for kidnapping you?” a thin woman asked.

I
lovingly looped my arm through his. “I did. Who could say no to such a handsome
king?” Victor sweetly kissed my lips before I continued, “I had always been a
hopeless romantic and dreamt of becoming a princess. Imagine my surprise when I
actually became a queen! And now our storybook romance is complete. We are
living happily ever after,” I declared.

“I
love you with all my heart, my beautiful Queen,” Victor said.

Emotion
poured from my voice. “I love you, too, My King.”

“Ooh!”
and “Ah!” erupted from the crowd.  

“They’re
not reading the script,” the producer whispered to the owner.

“Don’t
worry about it. This is entertainment, and the people are loving them!” she
said.

“There
they are!” a young man shouted. “That’s them!”

As
I turned to meet his gaze, I smiled. It was the same guy we’d met when we came
through the portal, the one who gave us a ride to town in his pickup. They
found it odd that we were in medieval clothing, so we told them we were
practicing for a theater production. Now, being there only confirmed our fib.

“Hey!
It’s them!” the girl said.

The
young man nudged her. “They’re so good!”

I
smiled at the irony.  

“Is
it true you only bathe once a year,” a teen girl asked, “if at all?”

“Does
it take a chisel to get the layers of dirt off?” another yelled.

“That’s
only a myth,” I answered. “We use soap made from animal fats, so getting clean
is easy. For those who aren’t fortunate enough to have a tub in their home, we
provide bathhouses that are open to all. In the warmer months, some people
bathe in the lakes and rivers nearby. Some people bathe weekly, some daily, but
it takes a lot of time and labor to fill a tub. Personally, I opt to bathe
every night, as I’ve got no wish to stink to high heaven.”

The
crowd chuckled.

“We
don’t have modern plumbing, but we do use hot water. We just have to heat it up
ourselves,” Victor said.

I
shot him a look. “
We
? Dear, don’t you mean your servants?”

More
chuckles erupted.

“King
Victor, do people cover their meats in sauces to hide the rotten stench?” a man
asked.

“Would
you?” Victor asked.

“Not
a chance.”

“Then
neither would we. We have means to keep our meat edible. It is salted, dried,
pickled, and smoked.”

“We
also preserve all kinds of vegetables and fruits,” I added, “and we eat and
enjoy many fresh meats too.”

“Such
as?” the man asked.

“We
enjoy fish and shellfish, rabbits, chickens, doves, pigeons, and—” Victor
started.

“Do
not eat the pigeons!” I cut in.

Everyone
laughed.

“They’re
very tough, the nastiest poultry one could ever eat.”

Sitting
in his big throne, Victor stayed in character simply by telling the truth. “Venison,
pork, and duck are my favorites.”

“How
do you move around in all that armor?” a man asked. “I read somewhere that chainmail,
plate, helm, and a sword can weigh over a hundred pounds.”

“It
isn’t a problem for me. I began training for battle at age twelve, and I can do
everything from riding a horse to fighting in a heated battle.”

“So
chainmail is completely functional?”

“Yes,”
Victor said, “and in it, I don’t feel there is anything or anyone I can’t
conquer.”

I
winked at him. “Unless you go for a casual swim, Highness.”

He
laughed. “Of course! I suppose then I’d sink like a lead dragon, my love!”

“And
be gobbled up by a sea serpent,” I kidded.

A
wave of laughter drifted through the air.

“Do
you brush your teeth?” someone asked.