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“And who are you that you come from Madeoc?” Edana asked. She crossed her arms, standing tall, Bastian would guess her nose came to his chin, and her posture was perfect.

He couldn’t believe it. He was face to face with one of the most elusive princesses on the continent. He didn’t want to reveal his true identity – not right away. He had no desire to drive her to her mare. No, he had a rare opportunity to talk to her and he wanted to take advantage it. Just what
was Edana Rambert made of?

“I am, ah, Bastian Gaunt, a member of the king’s loyal guard,” he said.

Bastian watched as she raked her eyes over him as if she were sizing him up. He rather liked that. Here he came to the meadow to be alone with his thoughts, contemplate his impending marriage to a princess he did not love, and he found a treasure – Somerland’s crown princess, a princess who had intrigued him the last time he saw her. Good Lord, what if she recognized him? She’d run for Lothair in an instant.

“Well, you do look like a soldier. Now, what are you doing in Somerland’s meadow?” she asked.

“I beg to differ. I’ve been told his meadow is in Madeoc,” he said, smiling. What a presumptuous little creature she was. A pure spark of fire!

She scrunched up her perfect button nose, as if unsure how to reply. While he waited for the next sharp comment to pass her lips, he hitched Thor up to the birch tree next to her horse. When he returned to the oak tree, her posture appeared a little more relaxed.

“Mae, my maid, assures me the meadow is in Somerland,” said Edana.

“Relax, Edana, I have no wish to harm you, only to be alone with my thoughts,” he replied. He inwardly cringed at using her name like a peer would. God, he hoped she wouldn’t figure out who he was.

She raised an eyebrow. “How bold of you to use my name, soldier.”

“Aye, yous a bold soldier,” chimed in her maid. “Yous call her ‘My Lady,’ or ‘Your Highness.’”

Bastian laughed out loud at Mae’s comment. Then he took a second to look at Edana – really look at her as she had him. What a fair complexion – such long, curly raven hair. A man would enjoy running his fingers through such a gift. Her sweet hazel eyes were expressive, full of fire. His heart raced at the thought of him taming her. Then a pang of guilt shot through him. It wasn’t his place to tame her.

“Why are you laughing?” Edana asked.

“I may be a soldier, but I’m no fool, princess. Why did you come here with only your maid? Did you want to be alone with your thoughts, too? Were you looking for privacy you couldn’t find in your castle? I suspect you wanted to be alone, like I did, or you’d have the proper escort. Now you don’t need to worry. I have no intention of harming you, or stealing you away to Madeoc¯”

“Stealing me away?” she gasped.

“Aye. I am a man of my word.”

“You are presumptuous soldier!”

“Bastian. Call me Bastian.”

“Soldier.”

“Bastian, please.”

“Madeoc’s crown prince is also named Bastian. I haven’t seen him in years, but I’m sure he’d be more chivalrous than you, soldier.”

“He might be. Please, Edana, we’re in a meadow far from Albans and Lothair. Let’s leave such demands as titles where they belong and use our names,” he said.

She softened and hint of a smile crossed her lips. Bastian watched as her maid whispered something into her ear, and she nodded her head. Did her maid recognize him? She did hint at having known him. Should he tell her? No, not quite yet. He didn’t want to upset her and she appeared to be mellowing.

“You’re right, Bastian, perhaps I’ve been too harsh,” Edana said. “I did come here to think and as my maid pointed out, your behavior has been honorable so far. I suppose we could share the meadow for a day.”

“Good¯”

“But be warned, we both have daggers.”

“I’ll remember that,” he said. It grew quiet between them and he sat down next to a rock that was planted in the shadow of the oak tree. Edana marched to her horse and removed a book out of her satchel. Bastian watched as she went to the tree to read.

He sighed and ran a hand through his thick hair. Marriage to Lettice! He detested the though. How could his father force him into such a loveless match? Didn’t he have a heart? Politics! Alliances! Was that the price of being the Crown Prince of Madeoc? To suffer a loveless match? Feeling a trickle of sweat roll down his temple, he unbuttoned his shirt completely, but didn’t take it off. He didn’t want to make Edana feel uncomfortable. He removed his boots, socks, and walked over to the pond, placing his feet in the water.

“Ah,” he said, feeling refreshed. Dare he tell his father he’d refuse to marry Lettice? No, he couldn’t. Despite his father’s own reluctance, Bastian didn’t dare defy him. He was a prince after all, and he had a royal duty to act accordingly.

“Mae, use my cup and get some water from the brook for the soldier,” said Edana.

Bastian turned his head to look at the ladies. Mae shuffled to get up from her shady spot, near a crudely made sundial, and scooped Bastian some water.

“Thank you, Mae – and Edana.” He sat down on the edge of the pond and drank his water.

“You’re welcome,” said Edana.

“What you are you reading?” he asked.

She held up her book. The Life of King Francis Valmont.

“Francis Valmont! He was brilliant. His use of archers in the Gaul conflict won him the war,” Bastian exclaimed. He admired the foreign king who ruled Prauge over two hundred years ago.

“Archers? How so?” Her voice was full of curiosity.

“He deployed them to his left flank, hidden by the Tailwood Forest, just out of view of the attacking army. As the intruders encroached upon him, he gave the signal for the archers to fire. Their arrows were true, and King Galen of the Gauls lost half his men in that one action, virtually assuring Valmont the victory,” Bastian explained.

“Such passion, Bastian,” she said, grinning. “It sounds like a good tactical move on Valmont’s part.”

“It was. My father admires Valmont and his military strategy.”

“Mine does as well. He gave this to me to read. I’m surprised to find such a literate soldier in Madeoc.”

Bastian pursed his lips, yet another hint of his true identity! Most soldiers didn’t have enough training to read such a historical book. “It’s my duty to know such things.”

“Then I suppose we’ll have an interesting conversation,” said Edana.

He raised his eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Was it true Valmont married a pagan woman from the north? Daneland, I believe?”

Bastian chuckled. “Aye, he did. It didn’t matter she was a pagan. They had a good marriage because they respected each other’s beliefs.”

“He was a tolerant man, then?” she asked.

“He had to practice a delicate balance of tolerance and fairness to be respected.”

“I want to be like that when I’m queen – tolerant, yet firm and fair as well.”

He sipped from his cup. What a refreshing conversation. “’Tis harder for a woman, I suppose, but if you are going to be a queen respect will be given to you because of your title.”

“Isn’t it better to earn respect than have it given, Bastian?”

“Aye.”

“So do you respect your king?”

“King Wolfram! Of course.”

“Is it given or earned?” she asked. She looked at him so fiercely, he felt like he’d betray himself with his answer.

“Both. It is given because he’s my king, but he is a good king – well trained in politics and military tactics. He knows how to fight and win. He cares for his family deeply and would let no unjust harm come to the people he rules.”

“I was told he conquered Madeoc like a savage, killing most of the old ruling family, the Strathams.”

Bastian nervously swallowed. “It was a war.”

“And he took a Stratham bride to boost his claim to
the throne,” she continued.

“I can assure you he loves the queen dearly. Men take mistresses and he has none. His love for my, ah, queen is enough.”

“I see,” she replied. Her brow wrinkled over, deep in thought. “I respect that. I wouldn’t want my husband to have a mistress. I think I’d be very hurt by that.”

“And were you told of how my, ah, king built schools and businesses? How he turned Rutters into a major seaport? How he brought sewers to the cities to keep them clean? How he brought fairness to the court and dealt with hypocritical judges?”

“No,” she said. “When you speak so passionately of him, he sounds so…” her voice trailed off.

“So what?” Bastian asked.

“He’s not the beast, I was led to believe.”

“Really? This coming from a Rambert?”

“I know King Wolfram has agreed to let me sponsor the joust at the king’s conference in a week’s time, knowing it was me, Somerland’s princess. I respect that. He could have said no. Certainly, there are other princesses to his liking. His daughter, Helga¯”

“She’s too young still,” said Bastian.

“Princess Lettice of Fenwick¯”

“She’s not as posed as you,” Bastian quickly interjected.

“Still, he selected me. I appreciate that.”

“Maybe he’s acting in a political way, trying to make peace with your father?” suggested Bastian. His voice dropped off. Why would his father endorse Somerland’s princess? There was no affection between their fathers, yet his own made a very noble gesture allowing Edana to sponsor the joust. After all, Helga was old enough to do it and his father seemed to like Lettice enough to betroth them.

“Maybe. Whatever his reasons, I will endeavor to represent Somerland well and I hope he finds favor with me.”

Bastian grew quiet. He wanted to win the joust just to receive the trophy from her. He wanted to spend the evening in her company, dancing and dining with her. She was clever and clearly had a mind of her own. She listened to him, really listened to him like no other women his peerage or his age had.

“Bastian?” she asked.

“I’m sorry. What were we talking about?”

“How I thought your king was fair despite his reputation.”

“And what is his reputation?”

“Well, before I talked to you, he had a reputation for being a bit of a brute in Somerland.”

“And now what is it?” he asked.

“Perhaps he’s headstrong,” she suggested.

Bastian chuckled. How easily she made him laugh.

“I don’t mean to insult your king, good soldier, but I did enjoy debating the merits of previous rulers and how effective they were or not.” She paused, drew in a deep breath, and almost nervously began to play with her hands. “Besides, I find you…clever, and our conversation was stimulating to me.”

He dropped his hands to his sides, bracing them on the cool grass. “Thank you. I found the conversation interesting as well.”

“My Lady, ‘tis getting late. We’d best be getting back,” said Mae. She checked the sundial and frowned.

Edana nodded her head. A stray curl fluttered across her cheek and Bastian hungered to push it in back of her ear, despite how she pricked his sense of honor when they first met. Still, he was impressed with her reasoning. She had a very open and inquisitive mind, something he realized he wanted in a wife. How could he think of Lettice right now?

Edana slipped on her riding boots. As she did so, he collected her items, the cups and the book, and packed them in her satchel before her maid could do it.

“Mr. Bastain, ‘tis my job!” Mae protested, fussing after him. He heard Edana giggle as slid on her second boot.

He snapped the bag shut. “It’s the least I can do to repay your lady’s kindness.”

Edana walked toward him, ready to ride. “Thank you, Bastian.”

“You’re welcome,” he said. God, she was a vision, with such luscious curly hair and hazel eyes that sparkled with a flame in a woman’s eye he’d never seen before. She was even smiling at him. Was she as intrigued with him as he was with her?

“When will you come here again, Edana?” he asked.

“I don’t know, Soldier. Somerland will be leaving within the week for the king’s conference.”

He untied the reins of her horse for her. “Can I see you again before you leave?”

“When?”

“Tomorrow? The same time? Here?”

“My Lady, Plannin’ such a meetin’ is improper!” Mae scolded.

“Mae, I’m convinced of his honor and I enjoyed our conversation. I see no reason not to return.”

Mae sighed.

Edana put a foot in the stirrup and Bastian put his hands on her waist, guiding her up into her saddle. They exchanged awkward yet mutual looks, filled with anticipation and longing.

“Until tomorrow, Princess,” he said.

“Until tomorrow. Soldier,” she replied.

He watched her trot off, her maid rambling in her ear. Poor thing. No doubt her maid was trying to convince her not to come. Oh, but what a treat to actually meet Edana of Somerland and discover she was clever, beautiful, a little bold, and not as judgmental as her father.

He had to tell her who he was at their next meeting. He wouldn’t carry on such a rouse any longer. Bastian wanted Edana to know she’d caught the attention of the Crown Prince of Madeoc, a prince worthy to court her and win her love.

“Damn it!” He picked up a rock and skimmed it across the pond. If only he could! His chivalrous heart wanted to win her love how a prince should win a lady’s, but was it even right knowing he was going to be betrothed to Lettice of Fenwick? Should he even come back here?

He looked toward the clouds and clenched his fists. “Damn you!” He knew full well he’d be here tomorrow just to spend time with Edana.

TO BE CONTINUED...