Tarnished Crown

Caspian Everhart didn't know why he felt so compelled to antagonize the pretty Aegaeran princess. She just presented such a challenge, and it intrigued him. Not that he minded dancing with Princess Annemarie; she was an impeccably graceful dancer and was as charming and lovely as you'd expect a princess to be. Still, Caspian was nothing if not perseverant and resourceful, so it didn't take him long to concoct a scheme to bribe the musicians to change the tune to one of a customary dance that required a frequent change of partners.

And slipping into the crowd at precisely the right moment to whisk Belle away from the gawky young man she was currently dancing with was simply a matter of carefully planned timing and a bit of luck. The boy looked startled and immensely displeased when he found himself replaced as Isabelle's dance partner.

"You know, Princess, you really could have made this easier by just agreeing to dance with me in the first place," he remarked, silver-gray eyes crinkling with amusement. Isabelle scowled at him.

"Or you could have just let me be," she retorted.

"Ah, but Your Grace, I swore I'd get a dance with you. I can't exactly go back on my word now can I? A man who doesn't have his word has nothing."

Isabelle's blue eyes narrowed. "You are a supremely pompous pest," she said. Caspian just gave her an easy smile as the dancers completed a round and he was forced to relinquish her to another partner. The ballroom was filled with lively music and laughter as people spun and hopped across the dance floor in the complicated dance routine. Caspian found Princess Annemarie as his partner again and she laughed cheerfully, her cheeks flushed.

"This seemed like a lot of trouble to go through just to prove a point," she remarked.

"My Lady, if you're going to do something, you must commit fully to it."

Annemarie laughed again, twirling off with a new partner at the music's cue. Isabelle looked most put out when she wound up in his arms again.

"Fancy meeting you here," he said teasingly, earning himself another scowl. Isabelle seemed eager to escape as the music wound down and partners stepped apart to clap and catch their breath. Caspian simply gave her a polite bow and a wink before she huffed and flounced off into the crowd. Caspian watched her go then retreated to the banquet table, popping grapes into his mouth.

"Trying to woo the princesses, are you?"

Caspian tensed, feeling a chill creep across his skin at the sound of the disdainful, mocking voice.

"Hello, Stepmother," he said casually. "I'm impressed that you're still standing, being so squeezed into that dress. You look like a rather becoming sausage. Or more accurately, like you're becoming a sausage."

Duchess Helene Everhart had been a moderately attractive woman in her youth, but had gained a fairly substantial girth in her later years. Caspian had heard gluttony could do that to a person. She pinned him with a cold glare, her dark blue eyes hard as ice chips. Her hair, such a pale blond it was practically white, was piled on top of her head in the sort of style popular with younger women. Caspian thought it looked ridiculous on Helene.

"You ungrateful brat," she hissed, cheeks red with indignation. "Don't you dare speak to me that way. Insolent, arrogant...you must get it from your whore mother's side of the family."

Caspian's fists clenched though he kept his expression neutral and bland. "I'll take that as a compliment. Her side of the family is admittedly much more appealing."

"You would think so." Helene snorted. "You're wasting your time and making yourself look like a fool, trying to woo princesses. Look at the caliber of man you're up against, Caspian."

"I was just dancing with them," he muttered.

"Spare us all the humiliation. They can have their pick of fine, well bred men in this room. With so much pedigree to choose from, why on earth would either of them ever choose a filthy mutt?"

Helene sniffed and stalked away, having spotted some nobleman more worth her time than Caspian. He stayed rooted where he was for a few moments, trying to get his blood to stop simmering with anger and embarrassment. After so many years, he should be used to his stepmother's jibes.

Not feeling much in a partying mood anymore, Caspian slipped quietly from the ballroom and wandered away from the revelry, searching for someplace quiet where he could collect himself. He found himself outside in the gardens, which were lot with flameless candles. The castle mages' handiwork, no doubt. Caspian perched on the edge of a fountain, plucking pebbles out of it and dropping them back in again.

"What are you doing?" a tiny voice asked. Caspian jumped and nearly fell headfirst into the fountain. He turned to find a blue-eyed, curly haired little boy looking up at him curiously.

"Ah, I was collecting my thoughts," Caspian said.

"After you collect them you throw them in the water?" The boy looked puzzled but intrigued.

"Yes," Caspian said seriously. "Only the bad ones, though. See, if you throw them in the water, then you can get rid of them, and they won't bother you anymore."

"That's pretty smart."

"Try it. Pick any bad thought that's bothering you and then just hurl it into the water."

The boy scrunched his face up in concentration and Caspian handed him a pebble.

"I got one," the boy said excitedly.

"All right, now this rock is your unhappy thought, okay? Throw it in the water, as hard as you can."

The boy clenched the pebble in his small fist and hurled the pebble into the water.

"I do feel better now," he said.

"See? I told you it would work." He stuck his hand out for the boy to shake. "My name is Caspian."

"Lucian."

"Oh, so you're the prince. That's quite an impressive handshake you have there, Lucian. But I ought to be bowing to you, don't you think?"

Caspian stood and bowed dramatically, making Lucian giggle.

"What are you doing out here anyway, your young Highness?"

"Painting," Lucian said proudly. He held up a piece of parchment and Caspian whistled.

"That's incredible," he said sincerely. "You have some real talent there, my good sir."

"Would you like to paint with me?"

"I've never been all that great at painting, but I dabble in drawing."

"So you'll come draw with me?"

"If you'd like. Who am I to argue with the wishes of a prince?"

"Lucian, there you are." Queen Lily came bustling into the garden, looking harried. "I've been looking all over for you. I hope you're not bothering this nice man."

"Not at all, Your Highness." Caspian bowed deeply. "We were just having a conversation about art."

"This is Caspian," Lucian declared. "He's my friend, and I asked him to come back and draw with me. Can he, Mama?"

"Of course he can, darling." Lily smiled. "Caspian Everhart, right?"

"Yes," Caspian said.

"Thank you for keeping him occupied, Caspian. He seems quite taken with you."

"He's a delight, truly."

"You're welcome to come back any time you'd like to visit him."

"Tomorrow!" Lucian insisted. Caspian laughed.

"Tomorrow it is, then, young Lucian."

"All right, it's time for bed," Lily said. She gave Caspian another warm smile and he couldn't help but return it. She was just as lovely and gracious as he'd heard.

"Pleasant dreams, Your Highnesses," he said.

"Night, Caspian!" Lucian called, waving enthusiastically. Caspian sat back down on his fountain, finding that his sour mood from before had vanished completely.