Gadolor

Esthena

Shouts of joy sounded throughout the land. All Esthena rejoiced in the enemy’s defeat, the riches gained from the war, and a strengthened friendship with Astor. The struggle had united the two kingdoms almost as one people. But now they rejoiced even more, for now there was promise for a union of a different kind.

Princess Entressa stood high in her castle tower, watching the city below. She was Austin’s only daughter, heir to all Esthena, treasure of the people. They called her the crown of beauty, their promise for the happiest of futures. Her adventures began late in the summer that followed the war. Crops were beginning to ripen, and farmers were thinking of harvest. In the country, anthills and rodents worked to store their food, while waves of heat rippled over the city.

From her window, Entressa could see the city marketplace, which bustled with people. Her eager brown eyes jumped from person to person, trying to see the whole energetic scene in one sweeping gaze. Then Entressa glanced around the dusty room where she stood, bouncing on her toes a little. “Ah, the market is lively today,” she said to herself, “All the color and noise—and what about the smells? I must go down.”

So Entressa hurried down to the castle’s courtyard and out the gate. One of the king’s knights went with her—it wouldn’t do for the princess to go out alone, of course—and soon she was into the market. There were trinket sellers, meat vendors, errand boys dashing, goats bleating, and buyers arguing with sellers. This city Esthen, capital of Austin’s kingdom, thrived with commerce. Entressa let the beautiful chaos wash over her. She loved the common people. In fact, sometimes she loved them more than herself. It was wonderful being princess, but to run barefoot through the crowd must be a great delight. Instead, she walked, nodding in greeting to the ones who said, “Hail, princess!”

The sun filled her skin with warmth, stones shone brightly around her, and bumpy cobble poked through the soles of her shoes, like tiny hugs for her feet. Through the crowd, she saw the glint of something bright flashing in the air, near the corner of a house. Someone was throwing things up, above the heads of people watching. She went to see.

It was such a display of skill and daring, and the juggler was standing so tall and smiling so wide, that Entressa laughed with delight. The young man stood on the street, juggling an array of objects high in the air, some of which looked sharp, while another man beat lively on a drum. Before long, the act ended. Each object landed neatly in the boy’s hands, and he bowed as the watchers applauded. There were bowls, which he and the drummer held out to them. The people put money in; naturally, this was how these performers made their living. Entressa put in a whole silver coin. The juggler cried “Ah!” and winked at her when he saw it.

Entressa stayed and talked to him. “How do you juggle so well, jester?” she asked.

“Ah ha,” he bowed, “I ask the tricksy spirits to help me, and they carry the things when I throw them up.”

“Hmm. I think instead that you practice often and become very skilled,” she replied.

“I do that too,” the juggler said. “And what better way to earn the spirits’ help than to practice with their things? Sebastian knows this well.”

“Fine then, Sebastian. You juggle well, however you do it.”

“Thank you, your majesty princess. Your praise is like sunlight in my heart.” Sebastian bowed again and kissed her hand. Before he said this, she had supposed he didn’t know she was the princess, because he talked in a friendly way. But now she saw this was how he talked to everyone, even important people like herself. Entressa liked him at once.

“Is it fun juggling in the market?” she asked, “Do you do this every day?”

A grand smile passed over the performer’s face. “I juggle and dance and play many tricks that few people of the world have seen,” he said, “And I walk where my feet lead me, and never worry where I’ll rest my head.”

“And what if there are no people to see your tricks?” she asked, “Will you starve without someone to put money into your bowl?”

The cheerful juggler threw his head back and laughed. Normally, people didn’t do this when she had spoken, and the burst of merriment made her leap inside. “I’ll no sooner starve in the wilderness than in the city,” Sebastian said. “The bounty of the land is never far from my fingertips.”

Entressa decided to tease him, as it seemed he would enjoy it. “Your skills seem to have no end. I think you’d have to walk across the whole world to find one.”

He spoke gravely, though merriment was probably still under it. “So far, lady princess,” he said, “I have found no such end.”

— § —

That evening, Entressa dined with her father under the castle, in the cellar where it was cool. It was pleasantly damp and dark, with the rich smell of aged wood filling the room. Her father sat with bread at one hand and wine at the other, ignoring both for the moment, instead gesturing with his big hands. “These bandits in the West are nothing but trouble,” he declared, “As surely as my throne stands, I won’t stand for their mischief.” King Austin was a burly man. His thick muscles matched his strong voice, and a dark beard fell over his chest. In recent years, silver had begun to tinge its edges. Entressa liked to watch it swing back and forth as he moved.

“I think they’re in league with the wild ones, whom Lorind is facing,” he continued. “Just because we’ve fought a war, they think we’ve grown weary. We’ll see about that. I fought to keep justice in Esthena, and I will have my justice.” Austin heaved a great sigh and set an elbow on the table, rubbing his forehead. Candlelight reflected on his graven arm-band. “I’m sorry, my dear. I don’t know why I burden you with these thoughts. Our kingdom is safer than I make it seem.”

“I’m sure it is, Father,” Entressa said.

“The crown is a burden, more than even the barons know. We kings bear the weight of all our people—their happiness, their sadness, their hunger, their safety. I must pursue the injustice and stamp it out. If I fail my people, where can they turn? The king’s duty is great and terrible.”

He looked up at her. “Of course, this will never fall to you, my daughter. The prince will carry the crown when he rules our two kingdoms, but you will be his queen. You will help him as no others can. Our proverb-tellers say a nation rises and falls by the wisdom of its queens.” Entressa nodded. Her father often talked like this. She was glad her father was so wise, though she wasn’t sure she would be a very wise queen.

— § —

Next day, in the afternoon, Entressa was walking in the palace garden when something caught her eye. There was a handful of objects sailing through the air beyond the wall, making regular arcs before dropping out of sight. With them came a cheerful, humming voice. Entressa walked to the base of the wall and stared up. A wooden spoon came into view then dropped out of sight, followed by a bowl and a little bag.

A lattice leaned against the wall, grown through with vines. Entressa glanced about the garden, smiling mischievously. She had learned to climb as a child, romping in the garden, evading her nurse. It was frowned upon for a grown-up princess to climb things. But right now, no one was watching.

Entressa kicked off her shoes so her toes could grip the lattice. She felt heavier than she remembered, and scrambling up was difficult with ankle-length skirts. But in a moment, she was sitting on the wall and leaning over.

The humming stopped when a smiling face met hers. Entressa laughed. “Sebastian!” she said, “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see the princess,” he said amiably. “Our talk yesterday was delightful, and her beauty is inspiring. Tell me, lady, might you know how to find her?” He winked. What a cheeky character, she thought.

Entressa decided to play along. “Well, I might,” she said, rolling her eyes girlishly, “But I’m not sure she’ll want to see you. She’s very busy, and she’s the princess after all.”

Sebastian had been leaning against the wall, looking up at her backward. Now he caught all the things he was juggling and faced her. “She’s missing the fun, but I guess that makes sense. After all, the princess is in high demand. She’s betrothed to marry the northern hero, Prince Andel!”

People were constantly talking about this, but it always caught her by surprise. Sebastian continued, “Everyone I meet is singing songs about it. Have you heard?” For some reason, Entressa was left without the nerve to keep playing this little game. But she didn’t need to say anything, for the juggler was moving off. “If you see her, tell her I came and wanted to see her face again.

“And,” he paused, turning back, “I’ll come again tomorrow, in case she’d like to talk.” Then he left.