Part 10 (1/2)
Ca.s.sander spoke in fulsome tones. ”I see before me, not a wild-eyed scalawag escaping a dogfight, but a royal princess of delicacy and grace! Indeed, you are almost pretty.”
Madouc gave a wry laugh. ”It is not my fault. They dressed me w.i.l.l.y-filly, so that I might be fit for the cotillion.”
”And that is so inglorious?”
”Not altogether, since I will not be there.”
”Aha! You run grave risks! Lady Desdea will be rigid with vexation!”
”She must learn to be more reasonable. If she likes dancing, well and good; it is all the same to me. She may jig, jerk, kick high in the air and jump in a circle, so long as I may do other wise. That is reasonable conduct!”
”But it is not the way things go! Everyone must learn to act properly; no one is exempt, not even I.”
”Why, then, are you not at the cotillion, sweating and hopping with the others?”
”I have had my share of it-never fear! It is now your turn.”
”I will have none of it, and this is what Lady Desdea must get through her head.”
Ca.s.sander chuckled. ”Such mutiny might easily earn you another beating.”
Madouc gave her head a scornful toss. ”No matter! I shall utter not a sound, and they will quickly tire of their sport.”
Ca.s.sander uttered a bark of laughter. ”Wrong, in every respect! I discussed this same topic only last week with Tanchet the under-torturer. He states that voluble types who instantly screech and blubber and make horrid noises-these are the ones who fare the best, since the torturer is quickly satisfied that his job has been well and truly done. Take my advice! A few shrill screams and a convulsion or two might save your skin a whole medley of tingles!”
”This bears thinking about,” said Madouc.
”Or-from a different perspective-you might try to be mild and meek, and avoid the beatings altogether.”
Madouc gave her head a dubious shake. ”My mother, the Princess Suldrun, was mild and meek, but failed to escape an awful penalty-which the poor creature never deserved. That is my opinion.”
Ca.s.sander spoke in measured tones: ”Suldrun disobeyed the king's command, and had only herself to blame.”
”Nevertheless, it seems very harsh treatment to visit upon one's own dear daughter.”
Ca.s.sander was not comfortable with the topic. ”Royal justice is not for us to question.”
Madouc gave Ca.s.sander a cool appraisal. He frowned down at her. ”Why do you stare at me so?”
”Someday you will be king.”
”That well may be-later, so I hope, rather than sooner. I am in no haste to rule.”
”Would you treat your daughter in such a fas.h.i.+on?”
Ca.s.sander pursed his lips. ”I would do what I thought to be correct and kingly.”
”And if I were still unmarried, would you try to wed me to some fat bad-smelling prince, so as to make me miserable the rest of my life?”
Ca.s.sander gave an exclamation of annoyance. ”Why ask such pointless questions? You will be of age long before I wear the crown. Your marriage will be arranged by someone other than me.”