Madouc

Madouc gave her head a haughty toss and turned back to Dhrun. "I hope that we will have occasion to speak again."

"I will make sure that we do."

Dhrun rejoined Shimrod.

"So then: how did it go?" asked Shimrod.

"The formalities are complete," said Dhrun. "I congratulated Cassander, warned King Casmir, flattered Queen Sollace and conversed with Princess Madouc, who is far and away the most amusing of the lot, and who also had the most provocative things to say."

"I watched you with admiration," said Shimrod. "You were the consummate diplomat in every detail. A skilled mummer could have done no better!"

"Do not feel deprived! There is still time for you to present yourself. Madouc especially wants to meet you."

"Really? Or are you concocting a fanciful tale?"

"Not at all! Even from across the room she finds you amusing."

"And that is a compliment?"

"I took it for such, although I must say that Madouc's humor is somewhat wry and unexpected. She mentioned, quite casually, that she and I had met before, in the Forest of Tantrevalles. Then she sat grinning like a mischievous imp at my stupefaction."

"Amazing! Where did she gain the information?"

"The circumstances are not quite clear to me. Apparently she has visited the forest and met her mother, who provided the relevant facts."

"This is not good news. If she is as giddy and careless as her mother would seem to be, and lets the news slip to King Casmir, your life will at once become precarious. Madouc must be enjoined to silence."

Dhrun looked dubiously toward Madouc, now engaged with the Duke Cypris of Skroy and his lady, the Duchess Pargot. "She is not so frivolous as she appears, and surely she will not betray me to King Casmir."

"Still, I will caution her." Shimrod watched Madouc for a moment. "She deals graciously enough with those two old personages, who would seem to be rather tiresome."

"I suspect that the rumors about her are very wide of the mark."

"So it would seem. I find her quite appealing, at least from this distance."

Dhrun said pensively: "Someday a man will look deep into her blue eyes and there he will drown, and never be saved."

The Duke and Duchess of Skroy moved on. Madouc, noticing that she was the topic of discussion, sat as demurely erect on the gilt and ivory throne as ever Lady Desdea might have hoped. As it happened, she had made a favorable impression upon both Duke Cypris and Lady Pargot, and they spoke of Madouc with approval to their friends, Lord Uls of Glyvern Ware and his stately spouse Lady Elsiflor. "How the rumors have flown about Madouc!" declared Lady Pargot. "She is said to be bold as old vinegar and wild as a lion. I insist that the reports are either malicious or exaggerated."

"True!" stated Duke Cypris. "We found her as modestly innocent as a little flower."

Lady Pargot went on. "Her hair is like a tumble of bright copper; she is truly quite striking!"

"Still, the girl is thin," Lord Uls pointed out. "For adequacy and advantage, a female needs proper amplitude."

Duke Cypris gave qualified agreement. "A learned Moor has worked out the exact formula, though I forget the numbers: so many square inches of skin to so many hands in height. The effect must be sumptuous but neither expansive nor rotund."

"Quite so. That would be carrying the doctrine too far."

Lady Elsiflor gave a disapproving sniff. "I would not allow any Moor to count the areas of my skin, no matter how long his beard, nor yet might he measure my stature in hands, as if I were a mare."

The Duchess Pargot spoke querulously: "Is there not a certain lack of dignity to the exposition?"

Lady Elsiflor agreed. "As for the Princess, I doubt if she will ever conform to the Moorish ideal. But for her pretty face, she might pass for a boy."

"All in good time!" declared Lord Uls. "She is still young in years."

Duchess Pargot turned a sidelong glance toward King Casmir, whom she disliked. "Still they are already shopping her about; I find it quite premature."

"It is no more than display," declared Lord Uls bluffly. "They bait the hook and cast the line in order to learn which fish will strike."

The heralds blew the six-note fanfare: ‘Recedens Regis'. King Casmir and Queen Sollace stood from their thrones and retired from the hail, that they might change into garments appropriate for the banquet. Madouc tried to slip away, but Devonet called out: "Princess Madouc, what of you? Shall we sit together at the banquet?"

Lady Desdea looked around. "Other plans have been made. Come, Your Highness! You must freshen yourself and don your beautiful garden frock."

"I am well enough now," growled Madouc. "There is no need to change."

"Your opinions for once are irrelevant, in that they run counter to the queen's requirements."

"Why does she insist upon foolishness and waste? I will wear out these clothes changing them back and forth."

"The queen has the best of reasons for all her decisions. Come along with you."

Madouc sullenly allowed herself to be divested of her blue gown and dressed in a costume which, so she grudgingly decided, she liked equally welclass="underline" a white blouse tied at the elbows with brown ribbons; a bodice of black velvet with a double row of small copper medallions down the front; a full pleated skirt of a bronze-russet similar to but less intense than the color of her curls.

Lady Desdea took her to the queen's drawing room, where they waited until Queen Sollace had completed her own change of costume. Then, with Devonet and Chiodys following modestly behind, the group repaired to the south lawn. Here, in the shade of three enormous old oaks and only a few yards from the placid Glame, a lavish collation had been laid out upon a long trestle. Here and there around the lawn were arranged small tables set with napery, baskets of fruit, ewers of wine, as well as plates, goblets, bowls and utensils. Three dozen stewards clad in livery of lavender and green stood at their posts, stiff as sentinels, awaiting the signal from Sir Mungo to commence service. Meanwhile, the company of guests stood in knots and groups awaiting the arrival of the royal party.

On the green lawn and against the sunny blue of the sky the colors of their costumes made a gorgeous display. There were blues both light and dark, of lapis and of turquoise; purple, magenta and green; tawny orange, tan, buff and fusk; mustard ocher, the yellow of daffodil, rose pink, scarlet and pomegranate red. There were shirts and pleated bargoons of fine white silk, or Egyptian lawn; the hats were brave with many brims, sweeps, tiers, and plumes. Lady Desdea wore a relatively sedate gown of heather gray embroidered with red and black flowerets. As the royal party arrived on the lawn she took occasion to confer with Queen Sollace, who issued instructions to which Lady Desdea gave a bow of compliant understanding. She turned to speak with Madouc, only to discover that Madouc was nowhere to be seen.

Lady Desdea exclaimed in vexation and called to Devonet. "Where is the Princess Madouc? A moment ago she stood by my side; she has darted away, like a weasel through the hedge!"

Devonet replied in a voice of whimsical and confidential scorn: "No doubt she trotted off to the privy."

"Ah! Always at the most awkward time!"

Devonet went on: "She said she had severely wanted to go for the last two hours."

Lady Desdea frowned. Devonet's manner was altogether too flippant, too knowing and too familiar. She said crisply: "All else aside, Princess Madouc is a cherished member of the royal family. We must be careful to avoid disrespect in our references!"

"I was only telling you the facts," said Devonet lamely.