10 Homecoming III (1/2)

It could.

Granted, the estimable Lady Ilse did not mean to leave an underage and injured princess of the first rank on her own. An attendant and four soldiers, one of whom was the captain himself, now stood with her. The carriage door slammed shut.

”Mother, wait!” Gisela said, belatedly working out the implications. ”We'll wait for Hilde at the outpost, won't we?” Lady Ilse did not even look at her daughter. Gisela's eyes widened in alarm. ”Won't we?”

”If you could do a passing job,” Lady Ilse said, her unclouded hazel eyes trained on Hilde, addressing her alone, ”well and good.” The corner of her lips lifted in a smirk as she added, ”But I will also be satisfied if the numbskulls come out of the experience thinking you'd been set loose upon them.”

With that, to Gisela's audible protests, the two carriages and their remaining escort continued on their way, seemingly at full possible speed.

Before they were out of earshot, however, Hilde heard Lady Ilse's parting command: ”Keep them away from me!”

The little group was silent while the proverbial dust settled.

Hilde's original plan had been to ride to the Lyseans and personally bid them welcome – as the highest-ranking member of their party, if not exactly the most senior. Even if they were aware she wasn't of age yet, they had no right to remark on the break in protocol. After all, they should also be aware of the reason the Arnicans flaunted their own rules in the first place.

After that, Hilde would have somehow persuaded them to also forgo courtesy and continue on their way at their original speed, either passing the royal convoy on the road or parting with her by the outpost, where her aunt and cousin would have been waiting. They can then continue at THEIR original speed.

None of that was to be, now.

After drawing a deep breath, steeling herself for a more difficult undertaking, Hilde took several steps until she was truly in the middle of the cobbled road.

'Well then…'

The attendant with her was the one who'd been in the carriage with them. She had moved to support Hilde again, but the princess lifted a hand to bid her stop. Facing the Lysean contingent who were drawing ever closer, never taking her eyes from the front, she spoke to the older girl hovering in worry behind her.

”May I have your name?” she asked.

The girl answered, ”It's Frieda, Princess.”

”Frieda,” said Hilde, noting in passing how the soldiers had paired up and moved to either side and slightly in front of the women, flanking them protectively. ”If I collapse at any point, please be sure to exaggerate your distress. Put emphasis on how valiant and dutiful I'd been, abusing myself to spare my Aunt the pain that these approaching men would not.”

She heard it when the maid sucked in her breath and, from the corner of her eyes, saw the soldiers turn slightly to her in alarm. She smiled.

”Your Lady would like that,” Hilde continued, still smiling, though her narrowed eyes showed more strain than humor. ”But I would not. I'll try to stay on my feet.”

***

Long before they drew close, the Lyseans were already well aware of the strange scene that awaited them.

Twelve armored soldiers and three lords on horseback – as well as one silver-detailed black carriage – stopped three yards away from the smaller group and, as one, alighted. Four men formally dressed in varying shades of gray, including one elderly lord who'd been the carriage's sole passenger, approached the other party of four.

Watching even as she herself was being watched, Hilde saw the different indications of wonder and puzzlement the men couldn't quite suppress.

”Who is she?” their faces were saying as they examined the girl whose pale face, hair, and eyes made her look like a ghost in her simple gray dress. ”Why would Lady Ilse leave her here?”

The youngest, a handsome if stone-faced man four or five years older than Hilde, did not even bother to keep the speculation out of his eyes. What his expression seemed to be saying was ”This is not quite what I was expecting.”

The moment the men stopped a few steps in front of the waiting party, the captain of Lady Ilse's guard loudly announced: ”You are in the presence of Princess Hilde of Arnica, daughter of the late King Dietrich, sister of the reigning Queen Heloise.”

At this formal announcement of her identity, the men immediately bowed.

Eyes ahead, staring at nothing and maintaining a blank expression, Hilde was thinking that the announcement wasn't quite complete. She added: 'Niece of an aunt who left her at the mercy of their enemy, bearer of a spinning head, possessor of a hunger that could make her eat your horse, not the mother of any mythological creature.'

The men in front and the soldiers behind them had already straightened before she was halfway done with her private litany. The eldest of the men formally intoned in his own tongue: ”Our Kingdom's condolences for your Queendom's loss, Princess Hilde.”

The portly man had stepped forward after he said this, and it seemed his intent had been to take Hilde's hand and give her a second greeting – one he perhaps thought was more befitting of a lady.