Assassin's Apprentice

As we walked and talked I constantly had to remind myself that she was a princess, and betrothed to Verity. I had never encountered a woman like her before. She wore a quiet dignity, quite unlike the awareness of station that I usually encountered in those better born than I. But she did not hesitate to smile, or become enthused, or stoop to dig in the soil around a plant to show me a particular type of root she was describing. She rubbed the root free of dirt, then sliced a bit with her belt knife from the heart of the tuber to allow me to taste its tang. She showed me certain pungent herbs for seasoning meat and insisted I taste a leaf of each of three varieties, for though the plants were very similar, the flavors were very different. In a way, she was like Patience, without her eccentricity. In another way, she was like Molly, but without the callousness that Molly had been forced to develop to survive. Like Molly, she spoke directly and frankly to me, as if we were equals. I found myself thinking that Verity might find this woman more to his liking than he expected.

And yet, another part of me worried what Verity would think of his bride. He was not a womanizer, but his taste in women was obvious to anyone who had been much around him. And those that he smiled upon were usually small and round and dark, often with curly hair and girlish laughter and tiny soft hands. What would he think of this tall pale woman, who dressed as simply as a servant and declared she took much pleasure in tending her own gardens? As our talk turned, I found she could speak as familiarly about falconry and horse breeding as any stableman. And when I asked her what she did for pleasure, she told me of her small forge and tools for working metal, and lifted her hair to show me the earrings she had made for herself. The finely hammered silver petals of a flower clasped a tiny gem like a drop of dew. I had once told Molly that Verity deserved a competent and active wife, but now I wondered if she would much beguile him. He would respect her, I knew. But was respect enough between a king and his queen?

I resolved not to borrow trouble, but to keep my word to Verity instead. I asked her if Regal had told her much of her husband, and she became suddenly quiet. I sensed her drawing on her strength as she replied that she knew he was a king-in-waiting with many problems facing his realm. Regal had warned her that Verity was much older than she was, a plain and simple man, who might not take much interest in her. Regal had promised to be ever by her, helping her to adapt, and doing his best to see that the court was not a lonely place for her. So she was prepared ....

"How old are you?" I asked impulsively.

"Eighteen," she replied, and then smiled to see the surprise on my face. "Because I am tall, your people seem to think I am much older than that," she confided in me.

"Well, you are younger than Verity, then. But not so much more than between many wives and husbands. He will be thirty-three this spring."

"I had thought him much older than that," she said wonderingly. "Regal explained they share but a father."

"It is true that Chivalry and Verity were both sons of King Shrewd's first queen, but there is not that great a span between them. And Verity, when he is not burdened with the problems of state, is not so dour and severe as you might imagine him. He is a man who knows how to laugh."

She cast me a sideways glance, as if to see if I was trying to put a better face on Verity than he deserved.

"It is true, Princess. I have seen him laugh like a child at the puppet shows at Springfest. And when all join in for luck at the fruit press to make fall wine, he does not hold back. But his greatest pleasure has always been the hunt. He has a wolfhound, Leon, whom he holds dearer than some men hold their sons."

"But," Kettricken ventured to interrupt, "surely this is as he was, once. For Regal speaks of him as a man older than his years, bent down by the cares of his people."

"Bent down as a tree burdened by snow, that springs erect again with the coming of spring. His last words to me before I left, Princess, were to desire me to speak well of him to you."

She cast her eyes down quickly, as if to hide from me the sudden lift of her heart. "I see a different man, When you speak of him." She paused, and then closed her mouth firmly, forbidding herself the request I heard anyway.

"I have always seen him as a kind man. As kind as one lifted to such a responsibility can be. He takes his duties very seriously, and will not spare himself from what his folk need of him. This it is that has made him unable to come here, to you. He engages in a battle with the Red-Ship Raiders, one he couldn't fight from here. He gives up the interests of a man to fulfill his duty as a prince. Not through a coldness of spirit, or a lack of life in himself."