Page 9

BETROTHAL OR BETRAYAL?

W hen her father received yet another summons from the grand duke only weeks after they’d returned home, Helena begged to go along. She missed Kazik so much that she sometimes wondered if she could be losing her mind.

But King Ryszard firmly refused. “I shall be away only a few days, and I’ve found that traveling on horseback with my guards is more efficient than bothering with the carriage.”

“I’m an excellent horsewoman.”

“Yes, but you are not invited this time.”

She slumped into a chair. “So, I may never visit Mnisztwo Castle again?”

Her father sighed. “Helena, you are no longer a child who may sulk at every little disappointment. Times are difficult in our kingdom, and I must not annoy the grand duke in any way. He and Madame Euzebia did not expressly invite you, so I believe it wiser not to bring you unannounced.”

He sounded so tired and sad that she observed him more closely and noticed the gray in his hair and the lines on his face.

Regret tweaked her heart. “I’m sorry, Papa.

I know how hard you work for our kingdom, and what good care you take of me.

I just get so . . . restless. But I promise to make good use of my time while you’re away. ”

“Embroidering?” he asked.

She looked up, startled, and saw the twinkle in his eyes. “No,” she admitted, smiling. “I prefer riding and baking and making candy—when Babka allows me to play in the kitchen—and reading about history and science in your library . . . and ohhh, Papa, how I long to learn archery!”

“Now, that is quite an eclectic mix of pastimes, but none of it sounds excessively dangerous. I shall ask one of the archers to find a bow suitable for you, and you may practice in the gardens, away from the house.”

A bow and quiver of her own!! Helen’s heart exulted.

Papa was true to his word—while he was away, an older guard named Piotr gave her and two little servant boys archery lessons. She struggled to place an arrow anywhere on the target, but she kept trying, and it gave her something to do.

But everything changed when King Ryszard returned. That evening, he summoned Helena into his study, offered her a chair near the hearth, then sat opposite her and studied her face in the firelight.

“My dear daughter.” He stopped right there and swallowed hard, blinking several times. Fear gripped Helena by the throat. What terrible thing happened? Was Kazik ill? Had he been injured in one of the mock battles?

“The years have rushed past us,” the king continued, “and you seem to have grown into a woman while I wasn’t looking.

” He sighed heavily. “You are beautiful like your mother, but you have the strength of a Tarnowski. You remind me of my grandmother, who could shoot a bow from horseback as well as any man.”

That made her smile. “I’m a terrible shot, Papa, but I’m learning.”

He chuckled, then wiped his eyes. “I have always known the day would come, yet it is a wrench to my heart.” After another deep sigh, he said, “You have received an offer of marriage.”

Hope and terror tangled in her heart. She couldn’t speak.

“Now, you must know,” he continued, “that I shall never force you to wed a man you fear or dislike. That said, this marriage might well be the saving of ?yrardów. While I was in Ostrów, the grand duke suggested a betrothal between you and Prince Kazimierz. If you are willing, the match would be most helpful to our country.”

Terror vanished, and hope exploded into joy that she did her best to moderate. “I’m willing,” she blurted. “Yes.”

Her father straightened in his chair, looking as if a great burden had just dropped from his shoulders.

He bowed his head, and his lips moved. Was he praying?

He looked up at her with tear-filled eyes.

“Thank you, Helena. You are a brave and virtuous young woman. I shall communicate your answer to His Grace, and betrothal plans will commence.”

T he Christmas holidays and the celebration of betrothal between Kazik and Helena finally arrived.

The journey to Ostrów was unpleasant, sometimes even frightening, for a terrible winter storm struck on their second day of travel, just two hours after their coach departed from the inn.

Helena’s papa complained a good deal, his way of letting off steam.

“Traveling through snow and sleet to set up a wedding that won’t happen until summer—pure foolishness!

I would have thought Euzebia would encourage this match, not concoct reasons to delay the wedding. ”

Helena’s heart hurt. “Do you really think she would do that?”

Her father sighed and shook his head. “No. I believe she wants this marriage for our children as much as I do.”

They arrived in midafternoon, utterly exhausted from cold and stress. A page delivered a message to King Ryszard from Madame Euzebia, inviting them to rest after the unpleasant journey. He frowned but didn’t argue, following the servant directly to their usual rooms in the southeast tower.

Attentive servants surprised them with drinks and hot meals in their suite.

They both enjoyed hot baths, and more servants aired and ironed their rumpled clothing.

The king’s own manservant helped him prepare, but Madame Euzebia had assigned not one but two maids to help Helena dress and prepare for the ceremony, which would take place that very evening.

Amid all the bustle, Helena didn’t so much as glimpse Kazik.

He was probably cleaning up after a long day of military training, poor man.

She enjoying thinking of Kazik as her man. So what if he still had a baby face?

A new kirtle of deep-blue velvet—a gift from Madame Euzebia!

—over a chemise of white silk did wonders for her confidence, and flat-soled shoes and a tightly fitted head covering minimized her height.

The maid assured her that she looked very well indeed.

Helena couldn’t quite believe her. She desperately hoped Kazik wouldn’t mind that she’d grown even taller since summer.

It wasn’t as if she could do anything about it, but, oh, how she hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed in her at their betrothal celebration!

She entered the Great Hall on her father’s arm, feeling more like a child playacting than a princess preparing to plight her troth. A servant announced them, and she felt the sudden weight of eyes and judgment.

To her relief, Grand Duke Warin and Madame Euzebia were immediately announced and entered the hall with Kazik following behind, dressed in velvet and silk that matched Helena’s.

She saw in a glance that he was still short.

When he saw her, his eyes opened wide. Did her superior height annoy her future husband?

For years now, she’d prayed with all her heart to stop growing so that Kazik could pass her up, but the Almighty apparently neither listened nor cared. She felt rather put out with Him.

The prince was still adorable like a puppy. “Your Highness,” he spoke while she curtsied and he bowed. “I-I’m delighted to see you again. You look . . . very pretty.”

She blurted, “Really?”

Then heat rushed into her face, and Kazik turned bright red, and she heard her father huff an amused sigh. To her relief, the other guests didn’t seem to notice their awkwardness. Few people in the hall seemed to notice them at all since their grand entry ended.

“Um, would you like to walk around the room with me?” Kazik’s voice went from deep to screechy on the last two words, and he flushed to his ears.

“I would like that very much,” Helena replied, her voice all quivery.

He said, “Really?” with the same startled surprise she’d expressed moments earlier. Their eyes met, and the awkwardness vanished. They both began to laugh and couldn’t stop. Helena even snorted, and Kazik didn’t care.

She really liked his new deep voice. Even when it cracked.

“Now, now, enough silliness! You two are quite the pair,” Kazik’s mother chided them, but she was smiling.

“Go on and stroll about the room together, talk to people, and try not to trip over your feet or forget where you are and why you’re here.

The ceremony should begin soon.” She shooed them gently into motion.

Helena’s eyes met his, and she sensed something like a jolt of . . . power? Magic?

Then her prince offered his arm, she laid her hand on it, and they commenced strolling as directed.

“Your mother is very kind,” Helena observed.

She wanted to ask him if the grand duchess was a mage, but since the civilized world had banned mages from ruling over countries long ago, such a question could not be asked.

Then again, technically Madame Euzebia didn’t exactly rule over anyone.

“Her eyes look like yours,” she added to her original remark.

“I don’t remember ever really talking with her before. ”

He smiled. “My mother is . . . well, she doesn’t go out much in public, and she doesn’t care about titles. She was friends with your mother, and I know she thinks highly of you.”

“Then why did she insist on making us wait until you’re fifteen to marry?” Blood rushed into her face as she realized how bold she sounded.

Kazik shrugged one shoulder. “You’d have to ask her. I’m guessing she wants us to be totally sure about marriage, since it’ll be for the rest of our lives. I don’t suppose we’ll get to see much of each other after we’re betrothed. Not until right before the wedding.”

“I don’t like that,” Helena blurted with feeling. “I miss you.”

“You do?” He sounded breathless. “I always miss you too. I wish we could just get married today.”

Again, heat rose in her face, though she wasn’t quite sure why. Not for the first time, she wished she had a mother to explain important things. Like boys. And marriage.