Wisdom's Kiss (8 page)

As Trudy wielded her needle in and out, in and out, they chatted about the myriad arcane duties of a lady-in-waiting. Oh, it was so complicated! For example, one addressed a queen or king as
Your Majesty
—everyone knew
that
—but a princess or prince was only
Your Highness,
sometimes with
Royal
tucked in halfway through. The emperor garnered
Your Imperial Majesty,
counts and barons
Lord
or
Lady,
and dukes such as Farina's Duke Roger
Your Grace,
though Roger's mother insisted on
Most Noble Grace,
which for some reason set Nonna Ben and even Wisdom to giggling whenever they uttered it. Easy for them to laugh; they already knew the rules, and doubtless had behaved perfectly all their lives.

"Don't fret." Ben patted Trudy. "I know you'll instinctively do it right ... Let's try this on, shall we?" She helped Trudy out of her simple homespun and slipped the gown, pins yet in it, over her head. "Child, you should be a seamstress ... It fits to perfection."

Trudy's blush scorched her face. "But it's—begging your pardon—it's too low."

Ben, turning Trudy this way and that in the swaying coach, laughed out loud. "I should say not! The ducal court will be so busy admiring your decolletage that they shan't notice you're the entirety of our staff. Doesn't she look grand, Dizzy? Granddaughter?"

"It's fine," Wisdom answered, never taking her eyes from the wheat fields.

Nonna Ben shot Wisdom a very ungrandmotherly glare before helping Trudy out of the gown. "Thank goodness Lady Modesty is so portly; had we time enough, we could fashion the leftover material into a nice wrap. Or perhaps a set of curtains."

Trudy couldn't help smiling. Nonna Ben was so sweet to pretend she looked nice when it was clear she didn't—clear to Trudy, anyway, and obviously clear to the princess.

"That blue with your hair, and those earrings ... are they a gift from a beau? I would say you're a lucky girl to have such a generous suitor, but really he's the lucky one, having a sweetheart as pretty as you."

Bent over her stitching, Trudy beamed to herself. Nonna Ben was wrong: it was she who was the lucky one—the luckiest girl in the world—to have a beau as wonderful and perfect as Tips. It was almost as if Tips had sight himself, to send her these earrings so fortuitously. They did look lovely with the dress, and no one in Froglock would accuse her of putting on airs, for no one in Froglock knew her station ... No one, that is, but Tips. They'd left Bacio so quickly that she'd barely had time to scribble a note for the next mail rider—a note Tips probably would not receive until after she'd arrived, not at the pace this carriage was moving. Never in her life had she traveled so fast, or so far—and to what a glorious destination!

Escoffier, asleep beside her, stretched his long black legs, and absently Trudy stroked the cat. Soon, soon, she'd see him. Soon she'd be with Tips again. Anticipation bubbled in her chest like a fountain.

8
TH EDITION

Printed in the Capital City of Rigorus
by Hazelnut & Filbert, Publishers to the Crown

FORTITUDE OF BACIO

No birth record exists of Fortitude of Bacio, who was born soon after her mother's arrival in Alpsburg; the woman perished of infective fever ten years later. Fortitude remained in Bacio until Year 28 of the reign of Rüdiger IV, when a royal party traveling from Montagne halted there after the entourage was decimated by food poisoning, an event immortalized in the comic ballad "Pass the Bucket, Queenie!" Desperate for assistance en route to the wedding of her granddaughter to the Duke of Farina, and apparently unaware of the girl's supposed foresight, the queen mother of Montagne offered Fortitude a position as lady-in-waiting. In agreeing to serve attendance—a responsibility for which the girl had no training whatsoever beyond a childhood spent as a kitchen wench, and certainly no breeding—Fortitude of Bacio unwittingly tendered herself as yet another catalyst in the great turbulence about to reshape the Empire of Lax. Controversy continues to surround the girl's preternatural abilities, fanned by recent analysis (see, for example,
The Imperial Gastric and Psychiatric Journal of Ajar,
v. 84ff). Regardless, the arrival of Fortitude in the city of Froglock, along with Emperor Rüdiger IV Princess Wisdom of Montagne, and the young swordsman Tomas Müller with his impresario Felis el Gato, would play a critical role in the forthcoming upheaval of Wisdom's Kiss, and it may be stated without exaggeration that her presence determined the life and death of two nations.

Any Soul Who Contemplates Even Glancing
at the Pages of this Volume Will
Be Transformed into a Toad
Suffer a Most Excruciating Punishment.
On This You Have My Word.

Thursday—evening—

We are within an hour of Froglock—would that we arrived this v. second as I am fiercely weary of this ghastly carriage!
I have been
imprisoned within this lurching monster for all the afternoon as Nonna says 'twould be unseemly if I trotted beside or heaven forbid rode atop with that wonderful coachman—'tis true I probably could not keep pace with the horses—not in skirts anyway—but to be trapped within this dusty upholstery when the sky for once is blue & the clouds so crisp I could ride them ... I am a victim pure & simple. A sacrifice to protocol.

Nonna & that serving girl have become the best of friends—it is horrible to behold. Nonna praises her incessantly—her figure—her stitches—her respect for decorum—each time pointing out my shortcomings with words or tone. It is not my fault I have no bosom! I would rather pad my dresses than squeeze myself in as Mrs. Sprat must! And then T was so good—so diligent—to spend the day altering Mrs. Sprat's gown—I would have been rendered sick from the motion of the carriage but she did not seem affected & she does have a v. lovely stitch—if I could sew half so well I'd have saved myself a lifetime of scoldings. Nonna kept droning on about how terribly she herself used to sew but I know she is referring to me.

We have just departed our fourth inn of the day where we stopped yet again for fresh horses & to change as we cannot appear at P in our traveling clothes!—& T was so helpful dressing Nonna in her green velvet or so Nonna stated at least five & twenty times. As we have suffered the loss of our hairdresser I was forced to don a wig—by good fortune Nonna remembered to pack it!—& so I now sit with stays & horsehair poking me in countless places—I cannot wait to relieve this discomfort—but worse than this is T! That blue gown made Mrs. Sprat look like a breaching whale but "Lady Fortitude" (which is what we must call her & it does sound v. impressive however much T squirms when we speak it) has stitched it into a marvel—clearly she wishes the bodice more discreet tho I thought serving maids aspired to lusty proportions—& most ladies I know would renounce their titles for such an aspect!

Nonna insisted T remove her headscarf—the girl is so irritatingly diffident!—& with thirty seconds' effort & four combs piled that hair into the most glorious pompadour I have ever seen. With natural ringlets! I could not help sighing in envy though my praise only irked her. She now sits frowning out the coach window—completely ungrateful for her blessings. I would be the happiest of girls if I were she.

O! I am to see Roger! I had forgotten completely! It has been so many months that I fear—on top of all my other worries!—that I will not recognize him! How awful that would be. How v. awful indeed.

My Dearest Temperance, Queen of Montagne:

Granddaughter, forgive this rough hand, but a trotting carriage does not provide the smoothest of venues in which to write. Yet I cannot delay in conveying my delight at your good fortune—which I now know, thanks to the devotion and resolve of the imperial mail service! 'Twas most remarkable—even your sister, who has been in a rare sulk the entire day, brightened at the experience. The westerly mail rider, having been informed of our proximity by the keeper of the inn we had only recently departed, raced to intercept us that he might tender the queen mother of Montagne correspondence from the queen. Handing me your missive with a flourish, he then continued on his journey to Froglock.

Teddy darling, such marvelous news! To think you have a suitor! Do you not fear you shall reduce your dear Nonna Ben to apoplexy by leaving me in suspense? Who is this young man you love like no other? I must have more detail! If the match proves as felicitous as you describe, it will, I confess, offer me much relief. Not only will you have found happiness, but the threat to Montagne will thus be greatly diminished. While it is grand to see Farina bound to a junior member of the Montagne family, particularly one (as well you know!) so clearly resistant to domination, yet I still fear Wilhelmina. The sooner you are wedded, the safer Montagne will be! Not—I assure you—that this is reason alone to marry; not nearly. But do enjoy your courtship, for it is a delight beyond measure to feel cherished.

Within our conveyance, on the other hand, emotions drift far indeed from love—and rather close to irritation and pique. While my satisfaction with young Trudy swells by the hour, for some reason your sister dislikes her. I cannot imagine why, as the girl is fetching and mindful and has the loveliest tresses, although I confess she expresses little enthusiasm for Dizzy as well. It was like riding today with two feuding she-cats; Escoffier was wise to sleep through it—and you to avoid it altogether!

I must say that for all Trudy's assistance and her skill with a needle, the girl continues to puzzle. At lunch she inexplicably leapt up, serviette in hand, a moment before the tavern keeper spilt a pitcher of water. It was as if she sensed the crisis—promptly averted thanks to her—ere it transpired. She knew, too, both times I intended to ask that she accompany us—last night when she demurred, and again this morning when she acceded ere the first word had crossed my lips. I cannot help but suspect some sort of magic—ironic indeed after our vow!

The possibility intrigued me enough to pry rather indiscreetly into her background, though I made sure to do so while Dizzy was elsewhere (she has forged quite a fellowship with our coachman, and believes me ignorant of their contests in spitting). But Trudy, it seems, has no background, or rather knows nothing of it. Her mother arrived in Bacio enceinte, never spoke of her origins or of the girl's father, and was taken by fever some years ago. It is a tender subject for her—as it would be for any of us—and I did not pursue it. Moreover, although Trudy carries the charming appellation of
Fortitude,
her mother's name was
Mina,
which is no virtue with which I am familiar—the family most definitely did not hail from Montagne! Altogether most peculiar, though I am delighted to have for once an attendant who anticipates spills rather than causing them.

Behold, we approach the city of Froglock and our first skirmish with Wilhelmina. I am certain that Montagne is thriving in your hands, and look forward to the conclusion of all this excitement that I might return to my kingdom and meet your charming suitor for myself! In the meantime, however, I do wish that one could outfit old women with armor. I should feel much safer in Wilhelmina's presence enclosed in steel.

Your resolute grandmother, all atremble,
Ben

8
TH EDITION

Printed in the Capital City of Rigorus
by Hazelnut & Filbert, Publishers to the Crown

WILHELMINA
THE ILL-TEMPERED

Born to minor nobility in central Lax, Wilhelmina rose to a position of unrivaled prominence within her generation. Her father, Edwig, Baron of Farina, from a young age proved adept at the intrigues of court life, marrying himself to the far more eminent Countess of Paindecampagne; Wilhelmina, named in honor of Emperor Wilhelm VIII, was betrothed to the Duke of Höchsteland while still a child. Thus the family in only two generations climbed from the lowest to the highest of noble ranks, and obscure Farina swelled into a vast and powerful duchy. Wilhelmina was left sole ruler when her husband, and then their eldest son, Ruttger, died in service to the imperial crown. Through her insistence, the family received as compensation the Duchy of Sottocenere and the city of Bridgeriver, increasing Wilhelmina's wealth considerably. Feared and admired for her ambition and shrewdness, she served as regent until Roger, the middle son, attained his majority; her subsequent designation of dowager was universally considered a screen to her true authority. Now in possession of lands and tributaries surrounding Montagne on four sides, Wilhelmina announced that the tiny kingdom and its title would be absorbed, willingly or otherwise, by Farina. When her diplomatic overtures were rejected by Providence and Benevolence, the queen and queen mother of Montagne, the duchess began assembling a sizable army at the kingdom's borders. Following the death of Providence, Wilhelmina shifted her strategy to merging the two states through the marriage of Roger to Montagne's new queen, Temperance. These negotiations proved ineffective when Roger instead selected Temperance's younger sister, Wisdom, for his bride. Initially enraged by her son's choice, Wilhelmina later insisted the wedding take place in the city of Froglock and extended all her support to the nuptial preparations...