“Wait—the margrave—” Whatever Emeric has to add, it’s lost as thekoboldlets go.
There’s a shout, then a splash, and Junior Prefect Emeric Conrad is officially the Yssar’s problem now.
I peer over the edge of the balustrade, hands on my hips. “Think he knows how to swim in those irons?” I ask Poldi.
Poldi and I wait a moment, watching the river. The surface doesn’t break.
“Doesn’t look like it,” he hisses.
I give it another beat or two, then turn and head back inside. “Eh. He’ll figure it out. Hopefully before the waterfall. Let’s go get you some mead.”
PART TWO:
The Lie of Pearl
THE THIRD TALE
A Ruby Ring
Once upon a time, a princess lived in a castle with her best friend, the loyal maid. She took the maid when she ran to explore ruins in the hills. She took the maid when she rode to hunt in the forest. She took the maid everywhere, even when it made her mother frown.
One day, when the princess and her maid were nearly thirteen, another young girl arrived. She was the daughter of a count in the land to the east, who was visiting for the fortnight to discuss dry, boring matters of state with the princess’s parents. The little countess was the prettiest girl the princess and the maid had ever seen, with hair of glowing chestnut, twin roses in her porcelain cheeks, and eyes as blue as the heart of a glacier.
The little countess wanted to be friends with the princess. She wanted to be the princess’sbestfriend. Heronlyfriend.
And the little countess was bored.
At first, she bothered the princess’s maid in small ways, pinching her when no one saw, tripping her as she passed, pulling her braids. If the maid protested, the little countess said it was an accident, and she was terribly sorry, and she wasso embarrassed, and then tears would well up in her eyes, and the maid would run away before someone scolded her for making the little countess weep.
Then the little countess got the princess to help.
The little countess did not want to read or climb or hunt. Instead the little countess came up with a game. She said it had to be boring for the maid, doing the same thing every day, and they could make it more interesting for her. And at first, the princess thought that was a fine idea, for her frienddidhave so many dull chores, and perhaps they could make her work more fun.
It started by inches: springing out from behind a corner to startle the maid. Switching the lye and the wood polish when she wasn’t looking. Then the cruelty crept in, stretched thegameto new heights. A spider down the dress. A nail in the broom that scratched the wood floor. A nail in the shoe.
And if the maid was upset, the little countess would fill her eyes with tears, and say it was all just a jest, and there was no need to be somean.
One day, the maid woke to find the little countess standing over her pallet, giggling and pointing at the blankets. “Is that why they call you theredpenny?”
The maid didn’t understand until she felt an ache below her belly and saw blood on the straw, and realized her first monthly blood had come at the worst imaginable time. She fled to the washroom as quick as she could. For the rest of the day, the little countess made a point of calling herRohtpfenni, until the maid thought she might push her into the fire.
This was when the princess realized it was more than a game.
The princess asked her parents to send the count away, but they could not, for the same reason they asked her to be friends with the little countess: Count von Hirsching controlled a key trade route in and out of Sovabin. It was a lifeline they dared not sever.
So the princess tried to help her maid, and asked the little countess to apologize.
The little countess hung her head and said she was very sorry if the maid’s feelings were hurt. She even pulled a ruby ring from her finger and said it was a gift, to make amends.
And the poor little maid believed her.
Night fell. At supper, the little countess gasped aloud and declared her ruby ring was missing. She pointed at the maid and called her a thief. When they turned out the maid’s pockets, the ring, of course, was there.
I will never forget that night, how I kept insisting through my tears that Irmgard gave me the ring, that I would never steal from them, until Dame von Falbirg backhanded me into silence. Gisele’s father promised Count von Hirsching that I would be punished.
And Gisele—Gisele said nothing.
She said nothing as the von Hirschings demanded I be whipped for a thief. Twenty lashes for a girl not even thirteen.
