those telling the tales.
“Well,” I continued, “now it seems that you forbade me to learn to read, hoping thereby to curb those ambitions that come so naturally to younger princes. When I defied you, you had my eye putout, or even did it yourself depending upon who tells it, promising the other would follow if I did not abide in my ignorance, and that I am not loyal to you, but obedient only out of fear.” I stopped to swallow before going on. There was an uncomfortable amount of truth in that last conjecture. I forced a smile. “Truly, I could not have written a better scene myself in the old days!” As I departed with Geoffrey’s sardonic laugh ringing in my ears, I could not help but reflect that these rumors were milk and water compared with some of the tales told of Geoffrey and his family in his breathing days.
It was hot in the banqueting hall at Nonsuch, and I found that the habit of using perfumes as a substitute for bathing a less than endearing one among some of the English aristocracy.
We were dancing, and I, in the somber black Geoffrey had chosen for me, must have appeared as a raven among the brilliantly colored and bejeweled tropical birds of the court, darker even than the occasional Spaniard or puritan found there. My partner, all in white and dripping pearls, vaulted towards me, proud of her skillful control in the Volta’s high leaps, but I saw that she had misjudged the last one and was coming down hard upon her ankle. Without thinking I caught her up in my arms, and the music staggered to a halt, the other dancers standing around me as if turned to stone. Ignoring the building hum of outrage and menace, I carried her to her place under the canopy at the end of the room. “Are you injured, Majesty?” I asked her quietly, setting her gently down.
“Call me cousin, Prince Kryštof, for you are no idle flatterer, or at least not so by nature, and I shall name you my Shadow,” she replied in equally soft tones, laying her long fingers on my dark doublet. “And, my thanks to you, my ankle is but a little jolted, not broken.” She swept a keen glance over the room, then rapped my arm smartly with her flat Italian fan, scolding me loudly. “You forget yourself, Sir Shadow! I am not one of your rustic maids to be whisked away at your whim!”
“I crave your pardon, cousin! I was carried away, and thought that action might win you, where diplomacy has so often failed,” I answered smoothly, equaling her volume and dropping to one knee.” Eastern barbarian I may be, but wild horses would not induce me to act to your dishonor.” I had soon learned to play this flirting game to her great satisfaction, and to my own considerable advantage, as did any man who wished to find advancement at Elizabeth’s court.
“A certain Wild Horse would be more than happy to see you dragged away at his heels were he here tonight,” a broad Devon voice behind me drawled sarcastically. I rose and whirled to face the man, but relaxed when I saw who stood there.
“How-now, my Ocean-water? I did not think you so fond of my lord Essex that you would be pining for him,” Elizabeth said, her coquette’s tone at once dismissing me and enticing Ralegh closer. I bowed to the Queen, and gave Sir Walter a slight nod, which was returned along with a piercing blue stare, then wandered out into the moonlit grounds. The day had been hot and airless, the evening only now beginning to cool. I had walked for some time away from the palace when my enhanced sight told me that someone was lurking in the shadow of the little wood just ahead of me. I gave no sign that I had spotted the man and a few steps further on I recognized him. Tom.
As I passed the spot he drew himself a little deeper into the shadows, a small sigh escaping him when I passed by, apparently without seeing him, then a gasp of terror as my hand shot from behind him and closed over his mouth.
“Well, Tommy, waiting for me?” I said with no little malice. “How flattering, just when I had thought that you were avoiding me.” My hand dropped to his shoulder and Tom sagged against me, shuddering at my touch, as