An Imperfect Princess (17 page)

They had three adjoining
rooms up in the top, causing a flurry of consternation as the room with two
beds for Clarissa and Eneria was wedged between the rooms with only one bed. 
Finally, it was determined that Marilyn would share the middle room with
Clarissa, putting Eneria at the other end of the rooms, for propriety’s sake as
well as for the protection of Marilyn.

It was just as
well, James thought miserably.  Had he tried to fall asleep knowing that she
was a few feet and a single door away, he would have had yet another sleepless
night.  He’d had a lot of them since she’d crashed into his life.

Thus, he was
shocked when he heard a timid knock on his door after his valet left for his
own room in the servant’s quarters downstairs.

He opened the
door to find Eneria there, a little red faced.

“What can I do
for you, Your Highness?” he asked casually, his heart thudding in his chest
nonetheless.  She had still not undressed for the evening, perhaps because
Mitsy was still dealing with Clarissa.  He, on the other hand, was in a gentlemanly
state of evening attire, which was unsuitable for
any
female who was not
his wife to see, let alone someone they were trying to pass off as European
royalty.  He unconsciously yanked the belt on his lounge jacket a bit tighter.

“May I come in?”
she asked timidly.  “No one is around.”

He stuck his
head outside and verified it with his own eyes, and then whisked her inside and
shut the door firmly.  This is a bad idea, his conscience told him.  He ignored
it.

“It is not
proper for you to be in here,” he proclaimed in a soft voice. 

“I know,” she
said, and then crumpled in front of him, tears in her eyes.  He blinked at her
for a moment, dumbfounded. “Oh I know, I know it’s wrong for me to be here. 
But I cannot bear it any more.  We have been
lying
to everyone all day
now.” 

He caught her
before she fell to the ground, weeping. It was the first time he’d seen her
actually cry.   She had held back tears even when discussing the death of her
father and her tenuous situation.  Dealing with a weeping extraterrestrial was not
how he had planned to spend his evening, but perhaps it was better than
fantasizing about her all night.

She bawled and
sniffled for some time, saying through her tears how sorry she was.

“Truth is highly
valued on Lathlor,” she explained.  “Lies are the root of all wickedness.  That
is why I just feel so awful about everything you have done for me.”  He
produced a handkerchief and handed it to her, and she blew her nose noisily. 

“Our society is
built on a series of impressions, not necessarily truths,” he explained. 
“Appearances are much more important than actuality.  Having you in this room
is not by itself a problem, for example.  It’s the impression you give when you
enter or leave the room, and someone seeing you.”

“I sent Aijo to
scout ahead,” she admitted.  “She didn’t want to.  She doesn’t like you very
much.”

“She probably
sees me as a threat,” he agreed, hugging her closer.  “She is fairly protective
of you.”

“She’s wrong,”
Eneria said softly, trying to dry her tears with her hands.  “You are no threat
to me.  If anything, I am the one endangering you.”

He said nothing
as she tried to collect herself, wondering what that comment meant.  She had
said that she was detectable by her blood up close, but they had covered her ship
with the lead shield for a reason.  Her enemies would have no reason to know
she was in England, unless they could pinpoint the location of her from an
unfathomable distance.

He pulled her
upright, but instead of sending her on her way, he just held her, trying to
will onto her all the familial love she had been denied for so long.  Her
parents had been cold and distant; his parents had been a bulwark for him for
most of his adult life.  He felt that she really needed nothing more than a
hug.

“Thank you,” she
said hoarsely, drawing from his strength.  “I feel like I over reacted a bit,
but I just...”

“Shhh,” he
murmured, pressing a single finger against her lips.  “You talk too much.”

He should send
her away.  He should have left her behind in Cornwall.  He should have never
taken her into his home to begin with.  But he itched to steal a sweet sample
of her lips once more, and he doubted from the look in her eyes she would be
unwilling.  The electricity they had felt on her ship was back again.

He cupped her
chin in one hand and was about to kiss her again, despite his common sense
telling him it was a bad idea.  He would then pick her up and ravish her
thoroughly on the bed, proprieties be damned.

“Ahem,” a tiny
golden voice said, from behind him.  “Are you quite through?”

He turned
around, quite irritated at the guardian fairy.  She had sneaked in unannounced.
Eneria had warned him before that doors meant nothing to her.

“Aijo, stay out
of this,” Eneria hissed, and he realized she was as annoyed as he was at the
interruption.  “I’m an adult, I can do what I want.”

“You can, but
he
can’t,” Aijo declared, pointing one finger at him.  “Do you want people
accusing you of being his mistress? My lord, do you want people to accuse you
of harboring your mistress alongside your wards?”

“We’ve done
nothing
—
”

“You’ve done
lots of things!  Elevated pulses,” she cut him off and fluttered around their
heads.  “Increased glandular secretions. Vasodilation.  Hormonal eruptions!”

At those words,
the two stepped apart from each other.  James was gritting his teeth.  He didn’t
even
believe
in fairies, which made it all the more irritating to have
one interrupting the moment.

“The hallway is
clear, no maids are about,” Aijo confirmed, pointing toward the door.  “Please
go back to your room now, Enny.  I should never have let you come in here to
apologize in the first place.”

Eneria gave him
one last haunting look before she listened to her chaperone and left him, an
angry golden guardian behind her.

He sat down
heavily on the edge of the bed, still quite stunned at the turn of events.  She
was clearly just as attracted to him as he was to her.  He was totally aroused;
he had been quite ready to toss her on his bed and make love to her until the
dawn.

But she was
going to leave as soon as she was rescued.

She wasn’t even
human.

His bed was
going to be very cold and lonely tonight.

“I knew I couldn’t
leave you too alone,” Aijo scolded in Lathlian, setting the candles to
flickering to add emphasis to her distress.  “Too much unresolved sexual
tension.  And now it’s only going to get worse from here.”

“I can’t help
it,” Eneria argued, feeling defensive and a bit petulant.  “He makes me feel
safe.”

“'He makes me
feel safe,'’ she says,” the fairy mocked.  “You’re the one endangering him!”

“I started to
tell him that...”

“Before he tried
to kiss you. I heard.”  Aijo stopped flying agitatedly and settle in her cage,
with the sunlamp she loved so much.  They had recharged the battery for it as
well.  “I don’t think he understands.  The Konkastians might not care about any
primitive casualties as they try to kill you.”

Eneria nodded
miserably.  A knock sounded on the door, and Mitsy popped her head in.

“Need any assistance
tonight, Your Highness?” she asked, and Eneria realized what folly it would
have been if she had been caught not actually
in
her room this late at
night.  Sometimes Aijo was right, she thought with a mental grumble.

“Yes, please,”
she replied in a small voice, trying not to let on how shaken she had been by
the rush of emotion she had felt when he tipped her chin up and touched her
lips with his finger.  It was nothing like what she had felt before, but Aijo
had been right.  The blood had pounded in her ears and sang within her veins. 

Sexual desire. 
So that was what it felt like.  She’d always wondered, but she had been a good
girl and never let a man touch her at all.  Vaz had tried to explain it, how
Seth made her willing to throw her life away, but Eneria hadn’t been able to
understand.  Some things could not be told.  They had to be felt.

As Mitsy helped
her out of her corset and stays, she wondered what it would be like to be
really
kissed by him.  That first kiss in his study in Cornwall had only been a sample
of what he could do, she believed.  She suspected that when he seriously kissed
her, it would be like drowning in molasses.

“I was wondering
who you were talking to earlier,” Mitsy said, eying Eneria warily.  “Both
Marilyn and Clarissa were with me.  Who was in the room with you?”

“A fairy,”
Eneria said with a straight face, tapping the side of her head.   When in
doubt, play the batty princess. “At least, I think there was one.” She then
burst into what she hoped was a convincingly mad laugh.

Mitsy’s face
paled.  “Are you... feeling well?” she said, gathering Eneria’s things into her
arms.  “Maybe you should get some rest...”

“And maybe you
should mind your own business,” Aijo muttered from her cage, in Lathlian.

Mitsy turned as
white as a sheet and fled, automatically bobbing a curtsy.  The door slammed
behind her.

“Great, now she
thinks my madness is contagious,” Eneria said, and she giggled for real this
time. She fell onto the bed and clutched one of the plump feather pillows,
wishing it was James. 

“Yup, and she’ll
never question you talking to fairies again,” Aijo cackled.  “This could work
in your favor, you know.  If everyone things you’re mad as a hatter in London,
then if the Konkastians are about, they might be able to ignore you.”

“Perhaps,”
Eneria said, climbing under the covers.  “Good night, figment of my
imagination.”

“Good night,
sweet princess.”

The rest of the
journey was uneventful, although being in the same carriage as Eneria was a
physical torture for James.  She had been so pliant in his arms, so soft and
ripe.  He had discovered one gossamer hair on his clothing, its mink color
kissed with an icy blue that they had dulled somewhat with henna for the
journey.  She had objected to the dyeing, and he privately missed the strange
play of alien color from her tresses, but even as subtle as it was, it was not
human. 

She wasn’t
human, but that didn’t stop him from craving her more than he’d ever craved a
human woman before.

Keeping his mind
away from the carnal while in the same small space as her had proved
impossible, so he had opted to ride with the outliers of their little caravan.

The household journey
from London to Cornwall was a tedious, several day affair, one that he and
dozens of other peers from the county undertook once a year.  It was joyful for
some; young unmarried ladies such as Clarissa would for the first time be
permitted to attend balls and other social events under the careful supervision
of their mothers, or in her case, James and a princess from another world.

It was
strange... Eneria looked human in every way.  Now that her hair was dyed to
hide the blue tones, it was darker, and she looked like a Spanish or Italian
beauty with her olive skin and warm hazel eyes.  When he had pulled her out of
the ship and tended to her wound, he had only questioned where in Europe she
had come from.  The answer turned out to be beyond his wildest imagination.

Even after she
left –
if
she left – he would never forget that brief ride in her ship. 
He was not a deeply spiritual man, but seeing his estate–seeing the southern
part of his country from so high up that the horizon curved to purple–that was
a mystical experience in itself that had been burned into his mind
permanently.  It had not looked like the maps; it was softer, greener, and
somehow yet still more real than any map. No roads or borders appeared from
that high up, just a solid island with patches of farmland and forest.

None of that
explained their strange attraction, however.  She was not his type, not that he’d
ever really codified his type.  She was not a classic beauty, like Clarissa. 
She was tall, nearly as tall as he was, and far too buxom for fashion. 

Still, all he
wanted to do was kiss her silly, scoop her into his arms, and take her
someplace and ravish her.  She would look at him with those huge eyes and say
something scientific about the process of copulation in between gasps. 

He shook his
head and tried to clear his thoughts.  Riding a horse with an erection was
rather painful. 

This was going
to be a difficult Season after all.

Eneria stared up
at the townhouse, her eyes wide as she absorbed the view of the rows of houses
facing Hyde Park.  “It’s bigger than I expected,” she said sheepishly.  “I
never left the palace grounds.  I never even saw what the Capitol city looked
like.”

That was a sad
truth.  Vazeria had sneaked off with Seth to view the wider world, once earning
her a serious scolding from Aijo, but Eneria had never been that brave.  She
had dutifully stayed inside the ancestral compound of the House of d’Munt,
which was the size of a small city unto itself. 

Inside James’s
townhouse, they were greeted by the permanent house staff.  They had brought
Mitsy and a few of the other estate servants with them, but the town house had
its own cook and housekeeper and maids.  The staff had been informed of Lady
Clarissa’s companion, and they had prepared an extra bedroom.

Marilyn was
beloved here–the staff loved children–and she and her governess were quickly
whisked away to their own suites.  The girl’s melancholy had faded somewhat
during the journey, perhaps because Clarissa’s excitement was catching.

Since Mitsy
would be busy with Clarissa, Eneria was assigned her own personal lady’s maid
from the staff.  The girl, a young teenager who had just a few days before been
an upstairs maid, was overawed at the prospect of working for a real life
princess.  Eneria thought that Mitsy was probably relieved
to be away
from the batty princess that talked to fairies.

“What is your
name?” Eneria said, clipping the words in her accent as she did.  She suspected
that slight sharpness would never fade–Lathlian was liquid vowels and clicks,
whereas English was more guttural.

“Anna, miss, I
mean, Your Highness,” she stammered, bobbing a curtsy.

Eneria smiled at
her.  “I am just Eneria, but everyone calls me Enny.” 

“Yes, Your Highness,”
Anna said, completely ignoring the suggestion, and started to unpack her
trunks.  “Are these all the dresses you have?” she said in dismay, upon finding
some of the trunks rather empty. 

“Oh no, I need
to go to the modiste and pick up the rest of my order.  They didn’t have time
to finish while we were still in Cornwall.”

“I see,” Anna
said, clearly relieved.  A princess with only six gowns was in serious trouble.

“Could you give
me a brief tour of the house?” Eneria asked.  “I do not want to wander down the
wrong corridor and get lost in the halls.”

“Of course, Your
Highness,” Anna said, and she proceeded to her around.  Marilyn and Clarissa’s
chambers were on the same hallway.  The earl’s rooms were down an adjacent
hallway, which Anna merely pointed out with a faint giggle.  Downstairs was a
great room, a parlor, a wonderful library, a dining room, and the kitchens. 
Beyond the kitchens was the back half of the house, where the staff lived.  The
earl’s estate in Cornwall maintained a staff of nearly fifty people; here in
town, that number was halved, but the household was still quite large. 

As shocking as
that display of wealth was, she found her own value was much higher.  Gold and
jewels, which were valuable trading commodities and materials for electronics
and machinery in her world, were an entirely different magnitude of wealth in a
primitive society.  Yertarf mined for them because they were so abundant on the
world and because they had nothing else of value to offer their more
technologically advanced counterparts.

At the earl’s
insistence, she had stashed most of her treasure in a vault at the bank.  They had
selected a handful of jewels to sell. At the jewelers, the appraiser nearly
dropped his loop when he saw the perfect emeralds, sapphires, and rubies she
had brought.  She was able to pay back the earl for her wardrobe and purchases
and still had three times as much left over for her personal expenses.

It was an odd
feeling, to be rich again.  On Lathlor, her family’s wealth was understated. 
They were a working family, in the sense that Narin d’Munt’s role leading the
executive branch of government was not merely a ceremonial one.  There had been
servants in the palace, and she had had tutors and a caretaker in addition to
Aijo, but even after she had grown older, she’d never had her own personal
maid. 
 But then again, robots had taken care of many of the mundane things, like
sweeping and mopping floors.  All the laundry in the palace had been handled by
one person with giant machines in the basement.  The palace chef had
synthesizers to recreate any kind of meal.  A team of Pharinae had maintained
the electronics with the assistance of one human to actually handle the
physical medium.  Aijo’s father had been among that team.

In a primitive
world, however, everything had to be done by hand.  The laundry, the cooking,
the cleaning–everything took additional manpower to get done, since there was
no assistance from machines.

That resulted in
a very striated society, with many workers and servants and only a small number
who were served.

The earl had
personally taken her to the bank, the jeweler, and the modiste to pick up her
new dresses and the rest of Clarissa’s wardrobe.  Clarissa herself was still
recovering from the journey, so Eneria and James had savored a rare moment
alone with each other, even if it was in the public eye.

After their
business was attended, he took her on a carriage tour of London.  She had
clapped her hands like a child in delight at the bridges and ancient homes. 
She loved the architecture of the world; it was much stockier than the fluted
columns of the Lathlian capital.

“Would you like
to go for a walk in Hyde Park?” he asked.

“Yes,” she
replied, delighted to have the chance to explore the area a bit more.

They strolled
along together, a fashionable and handsome pair, turning heads from the others
who were in the public space.  They talked of mundane things, such as the value
of gems and metals.  Then Eneria began to explain why she could not go home by
herself.  She felt as though she finally had the words she needed to explain it
in detail.

“All matter is
formed within the hearts of stars,” Eneria said.  “Baryonic matter, the stuff
that you and I and this world are made of, goes on to become planets.  Dark
matter is a little different, as its ties to gravity are looser.  It tends to
drift and clump around baryonic matter.  We have two different engines that
allow us to go faster than the speed of light; the first one travels through
ordinary matter and is slower.  That sort of engine is too large for a ship
like mine.  It takes up the space of a whole building–and it runs on steam
powered by small nuclear reactors.  It would still take about a month for me to
reach my home, if I even had a ship equipped with such an engine.  The second
is a dark matter engine, which allows us to travel through holes in time and
space.  They are much smaller than warp engines, but they require a tremendous
burst of energy to ignite.”

“And you have no
means of restoring that energy,” he remembered.  His calves had ached for days
as he provided her just enough power for her electronic jeweler’s loop.

“Yes.  Larger
ships have the capacity for many jumps, but my shuttle only had that engine as
an emergency measure.”

She desperately
wanted to hold his hand, or to find a secluded copse of trees, and kiss him.
Something, anything to explore that note of passion just a little bit more. But
he did not even touch her arm, as some of the couples in the park did.  Those
people were engaged or married.  She, on the other hand, was merely a deposed princess
who had come with him to chaperone a young girl on her debut.  London society,
Clarissa had explained clearly, was incredibly formal in its proprieties.

“Our first event
of the Season will be tomorrow,” James said.  “The Duke of Wessex arrived last week,
and his wife is already insisting they hold a dinner party.  There will be
dancing, so we will use it as the opportunity to introduce Clarissa to Society.
If you are up to it, I would ask that you reserve a waltz for me, since
Clarissa can’t.”

Clarissa had
said with an unhappy sigh that she was not even permitted to dance certain
dances that involved too much touching.  Only after older women had given them
permission could they join in.

“Such a silly
rule,” Eneria said with a smile.  “We practiced waltzing, Clarissa and I, and
it’s quite similar to a dance on my world.  Although, no one was ever
forbidden
from dancing it, as far as I know.”

“It was a huge
scandal when the dance was introduced from Europe.”  He furtively glanced
around, and there was no one in sight in all directions.  He pulled her close
into the waltz pose, and she laughed at his physical demonstration of why a
prudish society would object.  One hand was at her waist and her matching hand
was on his chest.  Their other arms were in the air.

Just as quickly
as he had demonstrated the dance, he dropped her hands.  There had been that
electricity again.  The last thing they needed was a repeat of one of those
previous kisses in the middle of the park!

“I would like to
give Clarissa the jewels tonight,” he said, resuming the topic at hand.  “She
should wear them at all formal parties.  Her mother had been wearing her share
of family’s jewels when they were lost, and my sister-in-law had been given
rest by their father.”  He looked sad.  “The loss of material wealth was
nothing compared to the loss of two peers in the same tragedy, but it left
Clarissa with only her looks, a provision left in her father’s will for her,
and what dowry I could provide.”

“She lost
status,” Eneria said softly.

“Her status is
the same.  She is still the daughter of an admiral and a gently bred lady. She
lost wealth, but not her intrinsic value.”  He looked off at the distant
skyline of London, a skyline that Eneria had told him would someday be filled
with towers kissing the clouds from horizon to horizon, if the city remained
the most powerful in the world for the next few hundred years as she believed
it would.

“She and I are a
lot alike then,” Eneria mused.  “I didn’t lose my mother, but I lost my home,
my family’s fortune, and my standing in the sphere of worlds we all lived in.” 
A thought occurred to her.  “The route I used to get here is now known.  The
most massive ships might have issues navigating through the dark matter, but
the Pharinae–the fairies–could surely expand the tunnels in the wormhole.
Someday, your world will experiment with faster than light travel.  When that
happens, you may be contacted by people from our worlds.”

“How long away
is that, by that civilization theory you’ve talked about?”

She shook her
head.  “At least three or four hundred years from now.  The engines are simple
once you know the concepts, but are very sophisticated if you don’t, and you do
not even have the words for some of the things you’ll need to discover.”  She
plucked a rock off the ground.  “The core of atoms, the heart of suns.  There
is much work to be done before you can even dream of flying.”