Though the process has only just begun, Prince Iowerth Rhudd Draig already feels as though he's on a conveyor belt, being whisked past prime ministers, chamberlains (both his mother's and otherwise) and future wives. Disagreements are sure to follow as girls are met and subsequently dismissed. The last one didn't even get a dinner.
     Thankfully, he doesn't have to pen his I Regret To Inform You letters. Those he gets to leave up to the politicians. Well, there had to be a silver lining somewhere.
     At the behest of his mother and his mother's agents, Prince Iowerth has dressed in better estate. He looks regal, though not uncomfortably so, as he sits upon a chair he hauled out to the garden, an ottoman brought in as well upon which he may (and does) rest his booted feet as he reads. If he is going to have to endure meeting after meeting, he may as well get some reading in. This afternoon, short of sunrise by some three hours, he is reading a treatise on celestial navigation in the astral realm, written by a nephew of Copernicus who by some strange fortune ended up stuck in the astral realm rather than in the upper reaches of the heavens with his uncle.
     Such a princely figure he cuts, the son of the high king. He wears a high collared tunic, the tunic of midnight blue velvet and the stiff collar studded with sapphires and Opals of Neptune. The tunic follows the strong line of his figure, ending at his hips. The buttons down the center of his chest are likewise sapphires, and the long sleeves are fitted to strong arms, with jeweled cuffs at the wrists. The trousers are again midnight, his color that so suits him, a rich leather that are embroidered along the outside of the legs by the same sort of seadragons that cover his skin. The boots are hard-soled, also of midnight leather, the soles hardy and treaded for better traction on wet rocks and wet decks. Where the collar stands bejeweled at his neck, the material is folded open just to the start of his chest, out of which one of the seadragons peek to get a look at the woman who might call them 'dear pets'.
     His fiery hair stands out all the more so against so much midnight blue, the thick curls lending themselves well to the short layers that have been cut, giving him a modern appearance even with such ....romantic attire. His periwinkle eyes, with only the faintest sliver of green today, are not lifted to the gardens or to anyone who might be arriving, but are instead upon the words of Copernicus' nephew as his hand lifts to turn another page. The large book rests upon his lap, his heels upon the ottoman, and a glass of wine in a blue-swirled goblet sits close at hand.

     There is a girl who approaches, looking slightly lost; not quite bewildered, for there's the hint of a frown on her face. It isn't an angry frown but a puzzled look, one which inquires of the universe whether this is truly her proper place within it most dubiously. Now she stops, head tilted to one side, looking about the garden with that bemused expression.
     She is neither tall nor short but something in between, and a bit more solidly built than is typically princessly; even by the local standards, she could likely stand to skip a few court dinners. It isn't to say she is morbidly obese; but her padding could do with a little less. Her gown was obviously chosen for her by someone else, for it's goldenrod yellow and embellished with frills and furbelows, square-cut across the shoulders with a large bow at the waist.
     She is distinctly plain; her face would not stop a clock, nor would it slow the minute hand, but it might make the second hand stutter for just a moment. Deep-set dark eyes are set beneath strong brown eyebrows, nose hooking slightly; not ugly, no, but it would take a talented bard to turn her into one of those dainty waif-like princesses who sit combing their hair and sighing in melancholy over true love.
     Her hair appears to have lost an argument between two of her ladies-in-waiting, both of whom had different ideas as to what should have been done. She prods at it now, resentfully, drawing out jeweled combs set with topaz until it flops listlessly against her shoulders. The combs are tucked back in, holding the hair at least away from her face; from her expression, that's about the most she expects from such things. And then, of course, it is that she spots you.
     "I'm sorry if I'm late, your highness." Her voice at least is not unpleasant; a quiet voice, one not accustomed to being raised, but with a firm note beneath it which suggests if she must, she can. "It wasn't my intention to keep you waiting, but I ran into a two-headed hydra just within my chambers. How do you do? My name is Anna." Her look is grave and a bit doubtful; not quite wary, but not expecting any sort of welcome in particular. "Should I go into the particulars of title and the rest? Everyone kept telling me what I ought to say to you, so I admit after a few hours, I let it all slip away."

     His hand was reaching out to take the glass (as his other was preoccupied with turning another page) when you speak, and now his hands still and he looks up. Some men may stutter upon a face sort of plain, or a figure a bit more than voluptuous, but at least you're not a simpering idiot. At least, not yet. A fiery eyebrow lifts as he closes the book and removes his feet from the ottoman. The ottoman then becomes another chair. "If by 'hydra' you mean the court events planner, then my condolences." Iowerth stands for courtesy and then extends his hand toward the chair. Please sit. The bows look like they are heavy.
     "Anna," he repeats with a nod, returning to his seat. "I'm not much of a one for pretense. As far as princes go, I'm perhaps more direct than most." His lips quirk at the corners, one corner higher than the other. It's a lie but a pleasant untruth, pleasant and congenial almost to the point of being a joke. "I am sure I was told the particulars, but if you wouldn't mind repeating them, it will give us something to talk about."
     Beside the chair (formerly the ottoman) appears a small tea table with a service of tea (and brandy -- he needs it) and some fruit, cheese and pastries. If he seems displeased by your outward appearance, he makes no sign of it, seeming as interested in hearing the answers to his question as if he had posited some bit of philosophy for discussion.

     "No, that particular snake I haven't met yet," Anna says pleasantly, moving to the chair and lowering herself with a hesitance that suggests she isn't sure of her stays. "Only the ones I brought with me, unfortunately. I suppose your mother's kingdom already has its fair share, or I'd suggest some sort of export-import business between my father's and here."
     Her hands fold neatly in her lap, with the effort made to straighten her spine. "The particulars? Very well; my name is Anna, my father is by some coincidence the Baron of River's End. Our kingdom is located about as far on the other side of this mass of land as it's possible to get, and as nailed down as he was able to make it; he has a horrid fear that someone might steal the country out from under him, you see, and so he had to do what he could to prevent it. Mercifully for him, he has only daughters."
     She glances at the tea service, and then turns unhurriedly to begin fixing herself a cup. "I hope you don't mind. They were rather wishfully thinking if they could keep me from eating, I might amazingly shrink six sizes overnight - if my father's money could buy me beauty, I'm sure he would have, but as it happens, I'm well aware of what face it is that meets me in the mirror, your highness, and it's kind of you to continue to entertain me." Her mouth twitches with wry humour as she loads her cup with cream and sugar both. "I have a sister; one only, and we both rather regret the other's existence, I think. She's much prettier than I am, and resents that I was born first and as such must be married before she could consider it. If you should stumble across an unknown serving-girl in a corridor making eyes at you sweetly, I ask you forgive her and me both in advance; I rather suspect she stowed away in among the shoes and dresses they insisted I bring. As she has a romantic temperament and not very many brains, she is likely to try a Cinderella on you. She is my sister and I do love her, but I feel it better for her and you both that you be warned," again, the wry humour quirks at the corners of her mouth, "since having her thrown out or into an asylum might cause an unhappy diplomatic incident."
     The cup is lifted to her lips in both hands, and she takes a thirsty swallow. "Oh, this is good tea. - My father is rich, which is likely the only reason why our kingdom would be considered for so momentous an alliance," Anna admits candidly, "and it's only by searching with both hands for the fortnight it took to get here that I came up with that solution. I am not terribly suitable material for the wife of a future high king; I know, because I've been told so, and everyone's rather hoping that I've forgotten it and would be scandalized that I'm repeating it, especially to you. But I feel that if your time is to be wasted, it may as well be wasted on truth; they may dress me up as a princess of the other sort, but I can't help but feel all this outfit needs is a shepherd's crook. Would you care to nominate another topic, your highness? Or may I ask you some questions of my own?"

     Your candor makes the other eyebrow creep upward and the smile creep outwards. "I am the high king's son, but as he is remarkably long lived and in good health, one cannot simply be a crown prince and leave off with that. I am first and foremost an explorer, Anna, creator and captain of a navy. I should rather have tea with a truthful woman of consequence than twenty flighty princesses. If nothing else, we will at least have a pleasant afternoon of sensible conversation." He pours not tea for himself but goes to take the glass he already had at hand, full of wine this. Next will be the brandy.
     "I will be on the lookout," he chuckles. "I would like to avoid international incidents as much as possible. Ah, a barony. River's End." He considers that a moment and then shakes his head. "Your father guards his secret barony well. I haven't heard much of River's End." Iowerth sips at his wine, his eyes on you with no less attention than if you were your fairer sister. "Ask away, Anna," he invites the inquisition of the lower case variety, his hand giving the wine goblet a turn, the wine a swirl before taking another swallow.
     He has a sense of humor himself and seems to appreciate that you do as well. Both of you are made to do this. At least it might be pleasurable, you can shake hands and part company as something of associates. A strong woman makes a good ally and a formidable enemy.

     "It is on the ocean as well," Anna informs you, "albeit on the other end of this continent. I rather suspect father stole it from someone else, though I don't know; he won't talk about how he became king. I spend most of my time in father's libraries, which he tolerates only because he doesn't think he's going to be able to marry me off. As a result, I've more or less become the official librarian after the last one left in a hurry one night." Her expression struggles to be demure, but doesn't really succeed. She sips her tea again, then sets the cup down.
     "I had heard that you sailed. It is that which makes me curious; I had noticed that the currents by our end are rather warm, though the water is very cold, and we are prone to rip tides. I had wondered if you had sailed much there, or encountered a similar mixing of hot and cold elsewhere," she explains, leaning back a little and squaring her shoulders to keep from stooping forward. "Because while I have not been much permitted out onto the water, I have occasionally taken out a small boat - rowboats, and once a skiff, until father sent out the Royal Navy after me - the Navy was a bit cross with me, I'm afraid, he was on his lunch break at the time. And I've noticed flashes of what looks like a light under the water where the temperatures mix."
     She picks up her tea again, hooking her ankles together. "I realize that I am probably not being a very good representative of my father or my home kingdom, your highness, and if so, I hope you won't hold it against us. I simply prefer to be a realist, and as long as I am here, it seems you are someone who might hold answers to these questions, and my curiosity is legendary, back home."

     "A mixing of currents is not unusual, particularly near coastlines, around islands. There are several islands in the Outer Fringe that have a rather treacherous stretch of interlocking currents. Hot and cold mixing can create pockets of enormous life flourishing beneath the water. Depending on the depth, one concern you would have is the presence of large reef systems. I assume your father's navy has recorded the presence of reefs. You should be able to acquire," he smiles, meaning steal, "...seafloor and coastal maps. Perhaps even current guides. I would have to see your kingdom plotted out to tell whether or not I've been in nearby seas. My explorations have taken me to seas near and far alike."
     He grins to hear your tale of taking a ship, albeit it a small one, without permission. Though you deride your outer loveliness, you have managed to capture the prince's attention, piqued his own curiosity. "We sound as if we are cut of similar cloth, Anna. I stole my father's ship, the one I yet sail, when I was only nine years old. I began to captain it at the tender age of ten. I know what it is to try to outrun a king's navy." Iowerth inclines his head. "I have a book I have penned, a how-to on sailing for novices. I should like to give you a copy before you leave. You will have to write me of your adventures. You shall find me nothing but encouraging on that score." Sipping his wine, he chuckles thereafter. He pauses to fill his now empty goblet with brandy.
     "On the contrary, I think you are doing your father very proud. You seem to be an intelligent young woman, crafty, capable, able to carry on any number of conversations. Why should that cast a negative light on your father? Rather, he should thank you for making his kingdom seem learned and accomplished. Your library, have you amassed many books? I have created an entire section here on cartography and maritime philosophy and history. You should take time to visit our own. Perhaps you would like a tour? You can tell me if it matches up to your own."

     "I should be delighted," Anna answers courteously, "to have any book you would recommend. They forbade me from bringing anything to read on the voyage here, although I did manage to smuggle a few in underneath the embroidery kit they insisted upon. Mostly items I am not supposed to have," and there is the gleam of humour as she finds in you a co-conspirator, "from outlying lands and realms of being. Interesting, if terribly alien."
     Her tea is drained, and with regret, she sets the cup aside. "While I could draw for you a sketch of our kingdom as seen from the air, it would be of only marginal use. Father has made ample use of tidal caves and struck a deal with the local dwarves and mole-people to expand our resources in case of emergency. You will have to come and visit some time - that is, if your future wife allows," she amends, and makes a face. "How tedious these courtly procedures are! Anyway, I do hope that you will visit. I would enjoy speaking with someone with an understanding of the sea about such things, particularly if you have any engineering knowledge. It seems increasingly like that I will simply have to persuade father to allow me not to marry and instead to inherit, after all, and it would be as well for me to know what I am up against as far as natural disasters."
     A wistful eye is cast at the tea, but stoically, she denies herself further luxury for the time being. The dark eyes are turned back fully upon you, and Anna offers you a vigorous nod that causes a topaz comb to fall in her lap. "Blast," she grumbles, picking it up and stuffing it back into her hair. "Yes, your highness, I should be delighted by a tour. I love books. They have been my staunchest companions since ever I learned to read. We have a largish number of books; perhaps ten or fifteen thousand. It is where my dress allowance goes, and if I may make so bold, the money that bought this dress," she eyes herself skeptically, "could have been put to much better use."

     He chuckles quietly. "I will insist that we have dinner tonight so that I might have a ready excuse for a library tour. And won't that make the prime ministers and chamberlains giddy?" Co-conspirator indeed. "And... please... where what would make you comfortable. It would seem that fashion is like politics; too many tailors can make a mess of it. There should be some other use for those bows."
     As you mention what a future wife might allow, his eyebrows drift upward again and he grins. "My wife will have to be a formidable woman, a strong woman, but one not easily put off by a husband who would rather ask for forgiveness than permission. She will have to be patient. Or at the very least easily distracted," he snorts, shooting you a look. "But what makes you think, Anna, that you are not now in the running? You have set the bar high for those who may follow you. I doubt others will be mentioning libraries or sea currents during the course of introductions."
     He studies you for a time. Your main detraction is that your kingdom is potentially smaller, the match not as politically advantageous. In fact, that is perhaps the only detraction. That, and you should wear your hair down, he thinks. Iowerth tips his head back in his study of you.
     "We will have dinner tonight and wander the library. You will likely have to have an attendant, as princes are not to be trusted after dark as far as etiquette goes. I will make sure you receive a copy of the one book. As for future visits, perhaps there may come a day, Anna, when I will have need of your alliance, should matters of marriage not follow. Coastal kingdoms will become more and more influential as time goes on. Such is my belief."
     Taking a swallow of the brandy, Iowerth settles back with a smile. "Hair combs and dresses such as this, these are not your usual accouterment," he surmises. "Be yourself, princess. As for being kingless, there are a great many queens who have ruled without need of a man. Queen Elizabeth I of England is one. Cleopatra, another. They ruled in their way, with their strength. And it is not to say they never knew love. They simply never shared power."

     "Dinner." Anna sighs. "You are excellent at sweet-talking a woman, your highness. I swear, I almost think that they have been starving me in the hopes that I might faint into your arms! As if that ever caused anything other than a horrible embarrassment for all parties concerned." She almost snorts, but catches herself in time. "But yes, your highness, I will see if I managed to smuggle anything past them or what I can otherwise arrange."
     And then there is talk of wives and husbands and other connubial matters, and the thick dark eyebrows lift, and she smiles. Her smile, at least, is pleasing to the eye, and her teeth are even and white. "As a rule, your highness, there is the desire for children to take after the mother in beauty. I don't say that I'm a hideous old hag; for one, I'm not yet old. And no, I'm not hideous; I'm merely plain as a brown wrapper, before you think this is my way of trying to get unwonted compliments," there's a sparkle of almost mischief in her eyes, "though it's great fun to do that to visiting diplomats and courtiers; see how tangled up I can get them; but all the same, a propensity towards roundness like a rubber ball and all isn't what most want in the future mother of their children. But thank you all the same for the compliments; if I am to be valued, I prefer it to be for my mind than for the qualities which time will rob me of anyway, in however many years with which I get blessed."
     Her hands knot together in her lap, eyes alert and intelligent as she watches you with some noticeable curiosity. "For form's sake, no doubt one of my maids will accompany me," Anna agrees, "but I should be able to do something about that, if you really like, your highness. I've been managing one way and another half my life, after all. And no." She smiles. "Usually I wear grey, or blue, or black, or - well. Any colour and style less likely to make me look as if I try to pretend to be something I'm not. I find braids or buns work for keeping my hair out of my face when I need it, and the rest of the time, it can hang in back for all I care. As for my power, my power is in myself and who I am. Kingdoms or marriages will ever be purely incidental to that. I'm not averse to the idea of a partnership, your highness; but I wouldn't let myself be eaten alive, whether by a kraken or a husband or a sister or a father or well, anything."
     It is not said as a challenge; it is said with a smile. But it is meant, as a fact. "Where shall this dinner be?" Anna inquires, rising slowly to her feet. "If I am to outwit the hydra, I'd best get moving, after all, and I would very much like to know where I ought to meet you."

     "It will be a quiet dinner. I will not subject you to a court party. I find them tedious and headache-inducing, personally. I will send a messenger to your appointed chamber. He will lead you to the library. I will have them set a dinner for us there." Iowerth finishes his brandy with an exhale and he sets the glass aside. A wave of his hand and the tea service and all disappear.
     "No need to faint on my account, particularly out of hunger. I'm not the smelling salts in the pocket sort of courtier. I'm apt to leave swooning women on the floor until they can regain their composure," the prince winks and rises. He offers you his hand, to help you do the same. "Princess Anna of River's End, it was a pleasure. You may expect the messenger in three hours. In the meantime, please have a snack and tell your handlers to get hanged if they bar you from so much as a cracker."
     Once you have risen to join him, he bows his head. His fingers (callused as they are by his life on the sea, and his hands are large and strong) give yours the slightest squeeze. "It will give me time to make sure all is in order for the tour. I look forward to continuing the discussion."

     "Very well." Anna seems quite willing to make a dignified exit, offering a smile. "A pleasure to meet you as well, your highness." Her hand is smaller than your own, though not so small as some; she is a medium-sized woman, given just slightly towards bulk. The gown, however, tragically increases the appearance of that bulk. Perhaps her younger sister bribed her maids.
     "Until dinner, then," she says with an air of astonished pleasure, "I look forward to continuing our discussion." And she turns after a quizzical, thoughtful, measuring look that rakes you from tip to toe. "Really, it has been surprising, and I hope to see more surprises. Good afternoon, Prince." And upon her not so dainty heel she turns, haircombs strewn and ignored in her wake.

Posted by rowan at August 09, 2006 09:01 PM