Chapter IV

Iris sat pensively by her maid's bedside, now dressed in a simple blue day gown, which perfectly complimented her sapphire eyes. An elderly nurse was knitting quietly in the corner, her gray hair bound tightly in a bun at the nape of her neck. Betsy lay in her bed, still unconscious, with bandages wrapped around her head. Iris was racked with guilt that Betsy should suffer so, all because someone was opposed to her mistress. It wasn't fair! The world never was fair, though, and that was why Iris had to find the one who had hired the assassins. The assassins had been thrown into the dungeons until such time as they could be tried and executed. It was a given thing that they would die for their crime. She was thinking burning them at the stake would be more frightening to other aspiring attackers than merely beheading them. This morbid thought brought her satisfaction, but the thought of another attack upon her was frightening, to say the least.

"Excuse me, ma'am," Iris addressed the nurse, hoping to take her mind off her recent thoughts, "Do you expect my maid to be awake in time for my banquet?"

The woman looked up from her knitting, obviously annoyed with the impatient princess. "I've already told you, your Highness," she replied tiredly, "It's hard to say when she'll wake up, but even if she did wake up in time, I'm afraid she would have to stay in bed for a few days." The nurse turned back to her knitting, and Iris went back to being pensive.

When they had returned to Bellenar Palace that morning, Iris had not left Betsy's side. They had quickly taken her to her bedchamber and sent for the physician, who came presently. The physician had bandaged up her head carefully and had said that she would be confined to her bed for some time. Iris had heard none of this, however. The shock and fear clouded her mind, so that she could do naught but sit by her friend. She knew that at some time between then and now she had been up to her chamber to change from her parade gown to an everyday gown, at which time the cut on her face must have been attended to, but she could not recall it. It had taken Iris some time to regain mastery over her emotions. Now she sat quietly by her maid and friend, watching and worrying.

Aside from the bandages on her head, Betsy almost looked peaceful, lying there in bed, without a care in the world. Iris supposed that their horse-riding excursion would have to wait even longer now. She wished she could do something for her dear friend, but the nurse had said that all they could do was wait. So, Iris set to waiting with a vengeance, willing her friend to heal. That is, until Dora, another of her maids, came to tell her that her presence was requested at her father's court. In truth, Iris had forgotten all about her duties as princess, for concern for Besty. After the distressing events of the morning, she had not energy to do more than hover around the unconscious girl. She had even forgotten that it was her birthday, for that matter. All her thoughts were concentrated upon Betsy, lying there, motionless. She was loath to leave Betsy's side, but duty was calling . She sighed, for the luxury of contemplating those terrible events was not one she was going to have any more time for today.

Iris stood and summoned Jane, another of her maids. She charged the young woman to sit by Betsy's bedside and to alert her if there should be any change in the invalid's condition. With that, she went off, accompanied by her maids and a small detachment of guards, to fulfill her obligations as princess.

Her first task was to meet with the nobles in the throne room, who were not of a high enough rank to be invited to the banquet, but still were obligated to show their loyalty to her this day. She was in no way dressed to hold an audience, but there was no time to spare for a wardrobe change.

When Iris and her attendants reached the throne room, King Eric II,who was surrounded by advisers and guards, greeted his daughter warmly and bid them to settle themselves to his right. Iris took her mother's throne, whose position she had filled since the late queen's tragic death. Iris never once sat in that place without thinking of the one who had sat there before her. When she was serving in her mother's stead, the princess felt closer to her. Her mother had been her greatest role-model, and Iris missed having the old queen there to comfort and guide her.

Iris pulled herself out of her latest reverie and turned to the first loyal subject who had come to see her and her father. She was pleased to find it was Lady Vucari, one of the more amiable ladies of the court. The lady had been invited to the banquet, which pleased Iris exceedingly, for she always had some sweet story to tell about her little children. Iris had known her for most of her life and had been truly pleased when the young woman had married. The princess had always known that a good husband would give this woman the greatest joy, and she had been right. Sir Vucari was the woman's match in every way, and now that she was a mother, Iris could see that she had everything she had ever wanted.

Lady Vucari smiled as she curtsied to her king and princess. Iris, in turn, smiled and inclined her head toward the lady. The king grinned and said in a jovial voice, "My dear, it is good to see you!" Iris sighed to herself, knowing that her father would, without a doubt, say the exact wrong thing. He continued, completely ignorant of his daughter's lack of confidence in his discretion, "I should hope to see you at the banquet this evening. We are having five full courses!"

Lady Vucari tried to keep her composure as she responded to her king with utmost civility, "I'm afraid, your Highness, that I will not be able to attend the banquet. Please forgive me, for my youngest bumped his head this morning, and I must stay with him. He needs his mother." Iris was instantly concerned, but she knew it was not her place to speak. Her father was presiding; it would be horribly disrespectful to him if she were to take the lead of the audience. Iris would never ask this woman to leave her child, even for an evening, but she knew her father's advisers would look upon her absence as an insult to their princess, which in turn would be an insult to them. She hoped that Sir Vucari would not have to suffer at their hands on account of his wife's maternal tenancies. She also hoped that her father would have the sense enough to ask how the boy was doing, but she knew better than to count on it.

"My dear, that is too bad! Trust that you shall be sorely missed," the king exclaimed dejectedly, "But cannot his nursemaid stay with him? Surely he shall be well looked after with her there."

The lady responded, quite flustered, "Forgive me, my liege, but that is impossible. I could not have a pleasant evening out while knowing of my son's being ill in bed, and I know I could not increase your enjoyment by attending while in such a melancholy state. I would not want to put a damper on the festivities. It would be better if I stayed with him." The king's advisers whispered among themselves, no doubt offended by this lady's impertinence. Lord Drusmab crept up to his king's throne and whispered into his Majesty's ear.

King Eric frowned at the words whispered and spoke calmly, his voice rising in volume with each accusation, "Do you mean to say that you, dear Lady Vucari, are outright refusing an invitation from your princess? An invitation from the heir to the Belleneze throne? Refusing to dine with her on this day of her birth?" His words were harsh, and his face was like stone. Iris wished she could speak up on behalf of this woman, whose only crime was loving her children, but it would not be right of her to embarrass her father in that way.

In fear, Lady Vucari hesitantly spoke, "I beg your forgiveness, Majesty, for I meant no affront to the princess. I meant no -"

"Ah, but you have insulted her! Slighted her Highness, the Princess Iris Abigail!" the Lord Drusmab cut her off in fury, "Your offense is great, and you shall suffer accordingly!"

Iris could withstand it no longer. Lord Drusmab had gone too far. She would not speak out against her father's ruling, but this man's was another matter. She could not let them punish this woman who had done nothing wrong! Outraged, she interjected, "My lord, hold your tongue! It is not your place to reprimand anyone, save your own servants!" More calmly, she continued, "My lady, trust that I take no offense at your declining our invitation. I do hope that young Jacob is alright?" she asked, referring to the lady's son.

The lady smiled her gratitude to her benevolent princess, her expression one of relief, and replied, "Oh, the doctor says he'll be alright, but I won't be at ease until I can be certain that he is no longer in any danger."

Iris smiled at this, and continued to converse with Lady Vucari for a short time, before giving audience to the next subject. The audiences were all much the same after that: as she had expected, many lesser nobles come to bring well-wishes; a few people bringing her gifts to show their gratitude, respect, or merely out of a sense of obligation. Lord Drusmab remained uncharacteristically silent, apprehensive of what his princess would do to him, should he speak out again.

After an hour spent in this fashion by her father's side, the princess was summoned by Dora to come and dress for the feast. She hastened along with her maids toward her tower chambers, for she had not realized how late it had grown. It would not do for her to be late for her own banquet!

As the women hurried along through corridors to the princess' personal tower, it occurred to the princess that she did not know what had become of the fellow who had come to her rescue at the parade. She turned to Dora, as they walked, and inquired, "Dora, what was done for the young man who showed such courage at the parade? I'm afraid I was rather too preoccupied with Betsy to notice much else, and I just cannot remember," she confessed sheepishly.

Dora smiled pleasantly, and said, "Oh, Jonathan of Cavelnar? Your Highness, you sent Lydia off to find him and give him a room to rest in before the banquet." Dora was a tall young lady who looked to be not much older than her princess. She had wavy, jet black hair that just now hung to her shoulders. Her eyes were a deep brown. She continued before Iris could fully comprehend what she had just said, "Is he not absolutely dreamy? Oh, and the way he ran up to save you was so brave!" Dora feigned a swoon at the thought of the daring young man. Iris just rolled her eyes at her dramatic friend.

"Wait, I said that he was to attend the banquet?" Iris asked, after a moment of thought on her maid's words. She could not recall any such thing.

"Oh, yes! He is to come as the guest of honor!" her maid exclaimed, "After all, he saved your life, and no doubt must be duly rewarded for it! He is a hero! My dear princess, you did not think that he had been sent away, did you?" Dora asked jovially.

Iris shrugged at that, as they began their accent of the tower's spiral staircase. She had not thought that he would stay, but then again, she not thought of much of anything since returning to Bellenar Palace. She had hoped that she wouldn't have to see the peasant again, but Dora was rarely wrong about things that had happened. She was often wrong about other peoples' emotions, but that was different story entirely. So, it seemed that her evening would at least be more interesting now, though it would not be any more pleasant.

The princess and her maids reached her chambers at last, to find that the rain had stopped, and the light of sunset shone through the western windows. As her entourage filed into the chamber, Iris sank down onto a cushioned seat, overwhelmed by all that must be done that day before the banquet. There was no use lamenting the fact that she must prepare everything for the lavish party; that much she knew. She began her preparations by sending for Lydia. The young girl arrived in a filthy state. Iris reprimanded her, "Lydia, why, your dress is terribly soiled, and your hair is flying everywhere! How could you get so messy, and today of all days?"

Little Lydia smiled sweetly and replied honestly, "I don't really know, your Highness... I did try to stay clean this morning. I'm not sure where all this dirt comes from, but it always finds me!" She spoke with indignation. "And my hair-ribbon came loose, and I lost it," she confessed quietly, an afterthought.

The princess smiled to herself at the child's words. Lydia really was a good-hearted girl, but she had a terrible time trying to stay out of trouble. She had just begun her service under the princess that summer, when Iris found her living as a servant at Ibarcana, her summer home on the Western Islands, and took a liking to her. She reminded Iris of herself more and more often. If Iris had not been so preoccupied with all her obligations and the trauma from that morning, she would have been reminded of the freedom she had at that age. She wasn't that age anymore, though; she was eighteen today, and there was much to do. Today was too important a day for Iris to allow for slacking, but she couldn't bring herself to be angry with this little girl. Lydia never meant any harm; she just wanted to please Iris. "It's alright," the princess said with a sigh. It would serve no purpose to lecture the girl on keeping tidy; there was no time for that today. Instead, she inquired of the little maid as to what had been done for the peasant boy, Jonathan; at least, that's what she thought Dora had said his name was.

Lydia obligingly replied, "Oh, I told the housekeeping-women to prepare the extra maid's chamber on the third floor for him, like you asked. Then, I led him there and told him to get all cleaned up. He was almost as messy as me!" the girl exclaimed, her green eyes wide.

Iris had been preparing to dress for the banquet while the child spoke, but she halted abruptly at the girl's innocent words. "Wait, do you mean to tell me that you took him to the extra chamber in my tower?" she asked, her voice tense and filled with sudden agitation.

The expression on Lydia's face mirrored the alarm in her princess' tone, and the young servant quickly attempted to remedy whatever it was that she had done to cause her mistress' distress. She responded, hurriedly and uncertainly, "I'm sorry, that was wrong, wasn't it? I didn't know you meant another third-floor chamber. I'm so sorry; I didn't know! Please don't be angry with me," the child pleaded pitifully.

Iris sank to her bed as the girl finished speaking. To think that he was only a few floors below her, resting or perhaps leaning out the window and marveling at the height, it was sickening to her. That he should be given such praise, such honor, it was unthinkable! What had he done, but what any loyal subject would have done in his place, had they not been so overcome by shock? His actions were good and noteworthy, granted, but that was all. How could anyone think they were so amazingly great and noble, enough to earn him a bed in the royal palace, in the princess' own tower? What he had done was not so necessary, either! Were not the guards right on his heels when he stopped her attackers? If one of them had saved her, he would not have claimed the seat of guest of honor at the banquet for her birthday. She would have been just fine without him! Why had he had to act at all?

Dora turned to her princess and inquired if she was feeling quite well, if she ought to bring her water or food. Iris turned to her handmaiden, brought out of her reverie by the girl's words. In truth, she had forgotten that she was not alone, too lost in her angry thoughts. Her maid's expression clearly expressed her heartfelt concern and worry for her lady's health. Dora must think she was going into shock.

She must compose herself! It was unacceptable for her to allow her discomfort and agitation to be seen by those around her. She was the heir to the throne, the hope of her people; it was her duty to present a confident, cool, collected image. Her people needed this from her; it would be insufferably selfish of her to give them anything less. She could not let the trauma that she had suffered that morning or even worry for her injured friend keep her from focusing on the tasks at hand.

Collecting her thoughts and pushing them all to the back of her mind, she rose, much to the surprise of her maids. She turned to the little servant girl, who was in quite a state of agitation over her princess' reaction to her words a moment ago. "Well, has the young man had anything to eat?" she asked the child.

Lydia answered hopefully, "No, why, I didn't even think of that! Of course, he must be hungry. It was so forgetful of me!" The child would have continued, but Iris held up a hand, silencing her. The girl would talk forever, if she could.

"Go ahead, then, and take him some food," the princess said with a smile in her voice. "But first, go and have your Nana clean you up. You must look your best for the banquet tonight!" she added, knowing that it was pointless, since, if the girl didn't forget to tidy up, she would find some way of getting untidy again before the banquet anyway.

The sweet girl bobbed a quick curtsy and hurried out of sight, and Iris turned to her maids, who were staring at her in confusion. "Well, don't just stand there," she said to them, "We've much to do before tonight, and the time is quickly running out! Here, help me out of my day gown." Still internally reprimanding herself, Iris set herself to the task at hand. After all, there was not much time left before the banquet!