The Scarecrow King: A Romantic Retelling of the King Thrushbeard Fairy Tale (21 page)

By the end of the day, the cobbler’s booth had sold dozens upon dozens of pairs of shoes, Annja’s purse jingled with coins, and we had to shoo the rest of the onlookers away to make our way home. I slipped my cloak back on over my dress and Annja and I snuck out the back of the cobbler’s tent with the promise to return the next day and repeat our business.

We hurried through the streets, and I glanced backward to see the crowd still waiting at the front of the tent, craning their heads to get a look at the Balinore princess. I felt a twinge of guilt that they wouldn’t see me, but I didn’t want them to follow me home.

Once we’d made it several streets away, we paused to catch our breath, clutching at each other. Annja gave me a wild grin. “Did you see how much money we made?”

“No,” I breathed, excitement burning in my chest. “Did we make a lot?”

“At least three hundred silver,” she said with a laugh of happiness.

“Is that a lot?” I asked her. “What will that buy?”

“Lots of things,” she said, and we sat on the back step of a house to try and count out our money. I had insisted that we split it halfway – Annja had worked hard all day, lining up people and chasing away those that just wanted to gawk. She deserved just as much of the money as I did, and I was happy to share it with her. A few minutes later, we had jingling purses and the sun was going down.

I tucked my bag of coins into my dress. “You can’t tell Alek what we did today,” I said. “He wants me to stay at home and hide out until things die down with the new king.”

She looked troubled at the thought. “He’s right, you know. These are troubling times–”

“I know he’s right,” I interrupted, giving her a smile to take the sting out of my words. “But we are also broke and need to make money. We’ll only do this for a brief time, I promise. As soon as it gets dangerous, we’ll stop.”

Annja looked dubious, so I reached out and jingled her coin bag, reminding her of what we had to gain.

A wicked smile curved her face at that. “If we’re going to fool our husbands, we need to buy dinner before they come home.”

Giggling like schoolgirls, we purchased cold meat pies from a vendor at the edge of the market and then scrambled home. I waved to her as she dashed off, and bolted the front door behind me. My eyes scanned the inside of my small house for an ideal hiding spot, and I eventually hid my coins under the straw tick mattress. Then, I changed into my working dress and knelt by the fireplace to start a fire. I’d barely gotten the kindling caught when there came a knock.

“Rinda? It’s me.”

At the sound of Aleksandr's voice, I opened the door and smiled to welcome him in. Sweaty and sun-browned from a day of work, he leaned in and gave me a hearty kiss.

“Your hair looks lighter.”

My hand went to my hair in alarm. “I…oh. Annja and I were playing with goldroot.”

He chuckled and kissed me again. “Your hair is beautiful as it is. You don’t need to be blonde.” He touched my cheek with a rueful smile. “Did you have a good day? I’m sorry I was gone so long. We were helping in the mines and time got away from me.”

I eyed his sunburned cheeks with skepticism. “In the mines all day, you say? And Talis? Did he help you in the mines?”

“Oh. Uh, yes.”

Well, there was one thing in Alek's favor – he was a terrible liar. I studied him and tried not to frown. If I had to guess, he and Talis had more likely spent the day looking for news on the missing soldiers and the king’s party. He was lying to me about where he’d been.

“Be careful,” was all I said.

“Always careful, dear lady,” he said with a grin. “How about you? Were you bored today?”

“I wasn’t bored,” I told him, moving back to the fire and placing a log on it before my fledgling fire could go out. “Annja came by and we cooked and did some mending. I fell asleep and woke up just now.” The lies came easily to me, and I felt a bit ashamed for spinning them so easily. Here we were, both lying to each other. A fine start to a new marriage. “The fire died while I was asleep.”

“That’s all right,” he said, grasping my hand and moving in to kiss me again. “I’m used to being in the dark with you.”

I blushed again, thinking of last night. “Did you petition the palace? About our final vows?”

“Tomorrow,” he promised. “We’ll go at sunset.”

“I can hardly wait,” I said shyly.

He pulled me close, a grin lighting his face and highlighting his own blush. “Who says anything about waiting?”

Chapter Seventeen

The next morning, Alek kissed me goodbye and left for the day again. “I’m going back to the mines,” he murmured. “Some of the men are meeting early.”

“Be safe,” I whispered to him.

As soon as he was gone, I dashed from the bed and dressed in my green brocade gown again. Within minutes, I met Annja at the door and we grinned at each other, sharing a secret.

“Ready to go?”

I nodded and threw the long cloak over my dress. “Did Talis ask you about anything?”

She shook her head. “I pretended to be tired because of the baby and he spent the evening rubbing my shoulders. What about you?”

I bit my lip, glancing back at my tiny hovel as we walked away from it. “I don’t think Alek suspected anything…but I don’t think he was entirely truthful with me.” My worried hands fixed the cloak around my neck as we walked through the maze of streets of Lioncourt. “He said that he and Talis were helping out at the mines. What did Talis tell you?”

A worried look wrinkled her brow. “He told me they were assisting at the stables. What do you think they’re doing?”

“He’s been very worried about the new king,” I admitted. “I worry that he’s going to do something rash and help with an insurgency.”

Annja stopped walking, and her face whitened, completely losing all color. She swallowed visibly. “Insurgency? Why would you think that?”

Oh dear. Annja looked extremely upset, and guilty to boot. It was odd. “Why wouldn’t I think that? He hates the new king and was friends with the old guard. Why wouldn’t they be trying to overthrow him?”

My friend paled even more. “You must not talk so loud,” she whispered, clutching her stomach. She looked terrified.

This was going from bad to worse. I grabbed her arm and began to pull Annja forward again, trying to soothe her. “I’m sorry. I’m just being suspicious. Likely it’s nothing at all. Alek's probably singing for his supper in the tavern and doesn’t want me to know because I laugh at his singing voice.”

Annja’s smile hesitantly returned, and she allowed me to drag her along. “You laugh at him?”

“All the time,” I admitted. “Doesn’t everyone? He’s such a happy sort – I can’t imagine him taking himself too seriously.”

She shook her head. “No…no one really laughs at him. Or with him.”

“Really? Why?” That seemed puzzling to me. Alek was such a warm, friendly man. I adored his sunny personality. It was infectious.

But she only gave me a shy smile. “I think you’re good for him.”

My own return smile dimmed as we rounded the corner of the street and saw the marketplace. Where there had been a few bored guards yesterday, there was an entire regiment today. They scanned the crowds of people, looking for something. Someone. My blood went cold and I halted in my tracks. I knew who they were looking for.

“Annja,” I said softly, and pushed her against the building. I still stood in plain sight, but she was carefully hidden from their view. I kept my eyes on the line of troops. My voice was low and even as I spoke. “Turn around and run home, as fast as you can.”

White with fear, she clutched my hand.

One of the guards saw me, frowned, and stepped forward. “You! Come here.”

“Run Annja,” I whispered. “Tell Alek what happened.”

And with that, I stepped into the middle of the street, my shoulders back with pride, and gave the guards the most haughty stare I had in my arsenal. I wrapped my cloak tighter around my body and pushed to move past them, as if I was heading to the market like normal.

One grabbed my arm.

I gave him a withering look and tried to shrug it away. “Get your hands off of me,” I commanded in a low, dangerous voice.

“Princess Rinda of Balinore,” the man said, giving me a brief, polite nod. Others moved to my side, not touching me, but their presence known. I was surrounded. The guard examined my hair and face, then said, “Your presence is desired in the palace.”

“I don’t wish to go to the palace,” I said in my most regal voice.

“It was not a request, Your Highness.”

I suspected as much. I turned my glare on the guards standing far too close to me, and gave another furious look at the one who wouldn’t let go of my arm. “I’m not going anywhere unless you have this lout take his hands off of me. Is this how you treat royalty?”

I expected my wishes to be denied, but the captain of the guards tapped the man on the shoulder, and he released my arm. They all took a step back, but didn’t give me more room than that. With the guards flanking me, I pulled my cloak closer and began to walk through the market street, my chin high and my posture haughty. I longed to look behind me and make sure that Annja had escaped, but I dared not check and give away her position.

Fear trembled through me – fear for myself and my friend, and I kept thinking of Alek. Had he been captured? Was he in danger? I had to protect him.

And so I marched to the palace to meet the usurper.

~~ * ~~

The palace itself was a sprawling series of cool white buildings, decorated with marble columns and nestled in the hills on the outskirts of the bustling city. Frescoes covered the floors with colorful tales, and the entire place was one of beauty and wonder…if it were not for the solemn-faced guards lining the walls.

This was a place under siege, a hostile place that had been overtaken by brute force and held by the same force. The guards seemed to be a cheerless sort, and I thought of Talis and Aleksandr - clearly not part of the new regime. They had enjoyed being soldiers; the men before me, armed with swords, looked as if they enjoyed nothing about their livelihood.

My hands clasped tightly in front of me, I let the soldiers escort me further into the palace. I was icy and calm. Early on, I had learned that when I grew emotional over something, my father would give me a triumphant look as if he had won some sort of great battle. As time went on, I learned to mask my emotions. So despite my anxiety of the moment, the expression on my face was one of bored disdain.

As I walked, I noticed that it seemed to be a place of changes. Beautiful tables had been flipped over into makeshift barricades, and soldiers glared at me as I entered, as if I were somehow a threat to them.

The troops escorting me led me to a side chamber, and then waited. One entered, and the rest stood outside the closed double doors. I wiggled my feet nervously in my slippers, They were so threadbare that I could feel the fibers of the carpet through the fabric. Alek would have to buy me new ones soon. Thinking of Alek made my icy demeanor waver, and I swallowed hard and prayed that he was safe and with Talis and Annja.

Before I could dwell on the thought, the double doors opened, and I slid back into my disconnected haughtiness. Arching an eyebrow at the soldier that reappeared, I watched as he bowed in front of me and then gestured for me to enter. I marched ahead, letting the sway of my hips swing my expensive skirts like the courtier I was.

As the doors closed behind me, I made note of my surroundings. This room was stripped like the others, and enormous windows made up nearly the entire back wall. They would have been lovely if opened, but they were boarded shut, yet another effort to make the palace into a fortress. A massive wooden table stood in the center of the room, curling maps dotting each end and a miscellany of dishes spread around them. One ornate chair sat at one end, and that chair had an occupant. I let my haughty gaze slide to him.

Enormous in stature, he wore unrelieved black and his looming figure seemed to swallow the far end of the room. His jaw was square and clenched with emotion, his brows heavy, his nose unpleasant. His hair was dark and his beard bushy, reminding me of the Scarecrow King. However, that king had been young – this man was as old as my father, and looked to be twice as unpleasant.

“Princess Rinda of Balinore, I assume,” he said in an amused voice that held a hard edge. “I suppose I should be honored.”

“You shouldn’t be,” I said in my most careless voice. “You should be honored if I came here of my own free will. The fact that twenty of your men had to march me through the city to the palace should tell you quite a bit about what I think of this ‘honor.’”

To my surprise, he chuckled, the sound low and humorless. “They warned me you had a nasty tongue. I thought princesses were supposed to be sweet and biddable?”

“Not when they speak to their inferiors, I’m afraid.” I kept the boredom in my voice, my expression bland. “We save the respect for our equals. I’m sure you understand.”

A slow, ugly smile began to cross his face. A tremor of fear crept up my spine, and increased when he stood up from his chair, moving to his full height. He stood at least a foot taller than me, his shoulders enormous.

“Do you even know who you are speaking to, princess?”

I pretended to examine my fingernails, but watched him out of the corner of my eye. “You’re the usurper who stole the throne here in Lioncourt, correct? Nasty business. Quite unbecoming.”

He didn’t lose that evil smile, though. It shone through his thick black beard. “My name is Xavien, and I am the commanding lord of the largest regiment of mercenaries in Lioncourt. My father was a byblow of the old king Renard, but he was never acknowledged, unlike the current king. My blood is just as noble as his, and my army stronger.” The cruel curve of his mouth tilted up into a sneer. “As for who truly belongs on this throne, princess – that is debatable. Some might not agree that the current king belongs on it any more than I do.”

“I doubt that very much.”

“Do you? You do know why he traveled so far to get to Balinore, don’t you? It wasn’t because of your beauty, though I will say that you are pleasing to look upon.” Xavien’s avid, pale eyes lingered over my body and I resisted the urge to shudder. “It was because his claim to the throne was spotty at best. As the bastard of the old king, some felt that he was not ‘royal’ enough. What better way to quiet them than to marry a royal princess of a neighboring kingdom?”