Chapter Four: Portsmith

Throp looked down to see Nib’s white muzzle sticking out of the satchel, his black nose wriggling. He had chewed a hole through the fabric and was hanging out of it.

“Agh!” He grabbed for Nib, but Nib saw it coming, and scurried out of the satchel and up Throp’s arm. Throp grabbed again and this time Nib ducked under his collar and into his shirt, his claws digging into Throp’s back. Throp squirmed on the horse, trying to reach for Nib who eventually worked his way around to Throp’s front and slid out of his shirt. Throp caught him that time, catching him by the scruff of the neck. He lifted him up and Nib relaxed in his hand. Throp realized the princess was watching them.

“It’s a ferret,” he said lamely.

“Doesn’t that hurt him?” the princess asked, a note of genuine concern in her voice. Throp shook his head.

“No, uh, it’s how their mothers carry them,” he explained. “It calms them down. My mother breeds ferrets for rabbit season and this one’s kind of grown on her.” He relaxed his grip and set Nib on his shoulder. Calm from the scruffing, or just happy to be out of the satchel, Nib stayed put and began to groom himself. “Uh, sorry,” Throp said and the princess smiled in response. They both spurred their horses on.

Throp wondered if, now that the ice had been humiliatingly broken, he should try to keep talking to her. He tried to think of the right thing to say, occasionally looking over at her and then snapping his attention back to the road whenever she noticed. Even when she suggested they stop to water the horses, he could only nod. As they dismounted, he caught the princess looking at him curiously.

“Could I?” she reached out and Throp began to panic. “Pet him?” she finished and Throp relaxed. She was talking about Nib.

“Uh, sure,” Throp said. He leaned forward to put his shoulder at her level and she reached out cautiously. Nib was never a biter, so Throp wasn’t concerned about that. The princess let out a small giggle as Nib rubbed his face against her hand, then shrieked when he leapt off Throp’s shoulder and onto the lace arm of her dress.

“Agh!” Throp cried and reached out to grab him but the princess was giggling as Nib made his way to her shoulder and began fussing wit her hair.

“Does this mean he likes me?” she asked as Nib stuck his nose in her ear and sniffed.

“I think so?” Throp said. “He’s never really done that before.”

Back in the saddle, Nib road on the princess’s shoulder and they didn’t talk except for the occasional question about ferret breeding.

“They hunt rabbits in Berabeth, don’t they?” Throp asked. “Maybe you could breed them as a hobby.” It was the first thing he had said to her that wasn’t an answer to a direct question and he was proud of himself for just a moment, but the princess lowered her eyes in response and they didn’t speak again until the forest cleared and they reached the top of the hill that brought the port town into view and beyond it, partially hidden by buildings, was the harbor.

“I’m going to see the ocean,” the princess said. Throp turned to her but she wasn’t talking to him, instead staring straight ahead.

“Have you never been here before?” Throp asked.

“I’ve never been anywhere,” the princess said, her eyes still fixed on the harbor town ahead of them.

The noise and crowd of the castle market was nothing compared to PortSmith. Throp supposed he should have expected that. Portsmith was the largest eastern port this side of the Impassable Mountains and a primary trading post for marine merchants. Still, he wasn’t prepared for the number of people or the hurried pace. He felt almost claustrophobic.

They found the stables where they were to leave the horses before they met the ship. Throp would have to retrieve them after he handed off the princess and lead her horse while riding his, another venture he wasn’t sure he was prepared for.

They dismounted and Throp unfastened the princess’s travel chest from the horses saddle. She only had one, which surprised him. He hadn’t expected a princess to travel so lightly. He slung his own satchel over his shoulder and they handed the reigns to a pair of stable boys who led the horses off. Throp clumsily rifled through the small coin purse he had been given by the Chancellor. He had never handled money before and was pretty sure he overpaid the ostler.

They were heading in the direction of the pier when suddenly the princess ducked into an alleyway. Throp followed, confused.

“Set that down,” she said, nodding to the chest, which Throp could carry with one hand. He set it on the ground and the princess looked around furtively, then leaned down and opened the chest. She dug underneath the pile of clothing and stood back up, holding a dainty silver tiara adorned with dozens of jewels that sparkled even in the dark alleyway.

“Here,” she said. She held it out to him and he took it, still puzzled.

“It’s…” he started but faltered. “It’s very pretty?”

“It’s yours,” the princess said.

“I don’t think it’ll fit me,” Throp said.

“It’s payment,” the princess said, her voice on edge.

“I thought they were going to reward me when I got back,” Throp said.

“That’s worth ten times what they’re going to give you,” she said. “All you have to do is walk away.”

“Where am I walking to?” he asked slowly.

The princess shrugged.

“Wherever you want,” she said. Throp shrugged back and shook his head. The princess sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. Her entire demeanor had changed. She was no longer prim and proper. Leaning against the dingy stone wall, her shoulder slouched, she looked almost angry.

“Did you not wonder,” she asked. “Why my father and mother went to the trouble of finding a “strong, brave man” to escort me here? Why they didn’t just send me with a few guards?”

“I did, actually,” Throp murmured.

“It’s because I insisted,” she said. “Convinced them it would boost morale among the citizens. But really I just needed someone common. Someone who I knew would listen to me. Someone who would understand.”

Throp desperately wanted to understand. He thought hard for a moment then gave up, shrugging his shoulders. The princess threw her hands up and made a sound of disgust.

“I don’t want to marry Prince Edwin,” she said, pronouncing his name as though it was something foul. “I don’t want to go to Berabeth and ride in a chariot and wave to people and then be someone’s princess. I want to leave. Be someone else. Start over.” She nodded to the tiara and smiled. “And you can, too.”

Throp was floored. He understood now what she was asking. It was a bribe, and a good one. The jewels in the tiara and the tiara itself were worth more than he would ever see in his life. They could keep him going forever. But to where?

“Why would you assume I would want to leave Larowyn?” he asked. The princess scoffed.

“Why wouldn’t you? It’s so tedious and boring.”

“It’s safe,” Throp countered. “It’s peaceful.”

“Bor-ing,” the princess said.

“Maybe for you in the castle,” Throp said. “I have plenty to do.”

“What?” the princess said. “Working? Tending fields? Breeding ferrets?” She pointed to the tiara. “Walk away, you’ll never have to work again!”

“Larowyn is my home.” The princess waved a dismissive hand.

“Home is where the heart is, right?

“My heart,” Throp said. “Is in Larowyn. I’m sorry Princess, but I can’t.”

The princess’s smile disappeared.

“What?” she said.

“I’m sorry, but no,” he said, feeling wrong and disrespectful as he said it. “I have one thing I’m supposed to do. My duty is to make sure you make it safely onto the Trident. Your duty is to go marry Prince, uh…” He trailed.

“Edwin,” the princess said between gritted teeth.

“Right,” he said. “You can’t just run away because you don’t like it. It’s selfish. We all do things we don’t want to do. But we do them anyway.” He held the tiara out to her. “That’s just the way things are.” The princess stood silent for a moment, looking down at the tiara in Throp’s hands but not taking it. Finally she looked up, straightened and spoke.

“I suppose I misjudged you, Throp,” she said, her speech once again clear and articulate. “You are a good man. Your king and your kingdom should be proud of you and your dedication.”

“Thank you?” he said. The princess smiled and nodded down at the tiara in his hand.

“Please put that back,” she said. “And then we can be on our way.” He realized now, as he crouched to return the tiara, that this was a test. And he had passed. He latched the chest, picked it up with both hands and stood. He looked around the alley.

The princess was gone.

Chapter Five >