At the Queen_s command

He nodded. "I don't reckon I can be taking it right now. Is there a better time?"

"This evening, if you wish. I shall bundle it up for you."

"Thank you most kindly."

The door's bell jingled again. "You can be leaving now, Woods."

Nathaniel turned. "Rufus, you're a-looking more vertical than the last time I seen you. Your brothers, on the other hand, is looking twice as stupid."

"Nathaniel…" Rachel laid a hand on his elbow.

"Don't you be worrying, ma'am. Ain't nothing going to happen in your store. That right, boys?"

Rufus nodded solemnly. "That's right."

Nathaniel turned back to Rachel. "It will be fine."

"I don't want you hurt, Nathaniel."

"I don't reckon I will be. Got to be coming back for them scraps." He nodded. "Good day to you, ma'am."

The door's bell jingled again and a man came in, pushing past Rufus. The larger man took offense, and grabbed the smaller man by the shoulder. The smaller man spun, a dagger appearing in his hand, the point drawing a single droplet of blood from Rufus' throat.

"Mister Woods, if you would do me the honor of an introduction to your friends. I like to know the names of men I will kill."

Nathaniel smiled. "Count Joachim von Metternin, that there is Rufus Branch."

"And the other two?"

"You don't need to be knowing their names. I'll do the killing on them."

"I think I shall come to appreciate the egalitarian notions of Mystria." The Count smiled over his shoulder at Rachel. "And you would be Mrs. Warren, the owner of this shop?"

Rachel curtsied. "How may I help you?"

Von Metternin grabbed a handful of Rufus' tunic and tugged him around so he could face Rachel without moving his dagger. "My mistress, the Princess Gisella, has heard of this thing called a 'picnic.' She is desirous of hosting one. So she will need a dinner service for twelve, table, chairs, all the necessaries for this. And if you know a kitchen which can prepare the correct foods, I should be thankful."

He glanced up at Rufus. "And you, my fine friend, shall I be killing you, or finding a use for your brawn? I shall need these goods carted to the place and taken away again. A crown per man for a day's service."

Rufus nodded while his brothers rubbed their hands together.

"Good. The bargain holds as long as I do not see you again until the appointed day and time. Otherwise, I shall have to kill you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Rufus gave Nathaniel a glare, then departed with his brothers.

"I reckon I owe you thanks, Count Joachim."

The Kessian shrugged, slipped the dagger back into the sheath on his forearm. "I have a service to request of you, too. And you, Mrs. Warren."

"Yes, Count Joachim?"

"This evening, the both of you shall attend dinner with my mistress and me. For the sake of propriety, our dinners must be chaperoned and I, quite frankly, have tolerated all the boring people I can abide. This evening it would have been Bishop Bumble and his family, save that his gout is acting up. If you should be so kind."

"A pleasure, sir." Rachel smiled.

"I shall send a carriage for you. No fancy dress. My mistress would get to know Mystria's people for who they are, not who they pretend to be." He clapped his hands. "This is wonderful. She shall be very happy. And then, tomorrow, Mr. Woods, you shall lead her to meet her husband, and all shall be well."

Chapter Thirty-Seven

August 25, 1763

Prince Haven

Temperance Bay, Mystria

P rince Vlad waved as Nathaniel rode up to the estate. He and Kamiskwa had just finished supervising Mugwump's feeding. The Altashee had remained down by the river, tickling fish out, while the Prince had changed in anticipation of the Princess' arrival. He wore a blue velvet jacket with gold trim over a fresh white shirt, pants to match jacket, white hose, and black shoes with gold buckles.

"How far back of you are they?"

"Well, 'bout an hour. Maybe more. I set out before they had fully commenced coming." Nathaniel dismounted, flipped open a saddlebag, and handed the Prince a note sealed by Count von Metternin. "He said this would explain it all, and that you ain't got no worries."

The Prince accepted the note. "Will you tell me of her?"

Nathaniel smiled. "I was swore not to, and I keep my word on things confidential."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I reckon we're going to have us a conversation." Nathaniel turned the horse over to a stablehand, having shucked his sheathed rifle from the saddle-scabbard. "The Princess said you was to wait for her in your laboratory. She respected what the Count tole her about you. That's where she's fixing on meeting you."

Interesting. Though the Count had not seemed horribly fixated on protocol, Vlad had assumed Princess Gisella would be. She'd certainly been schooled in it. She was being sent to him as an instrument of diplomacy, so all that truly mattered was that conventions be observed. If she is not concerned with them, what does concern her?

"And you will share no observations with me?"

"Nope. I do as I is told."