a tale of decisions - I decide to continue later

The Seer tossed the stones and studied them carefully when they landed clickety-clack on the wooden boards.  She studied them with unblinking eyes and brow scrunched into a planting field.  Half her face was hidden behind her knees.

"Well?" barked Prince David, "What do you see, woman?"

The Seer heaved a heavy sigh, "The stones are not clear.  They contradict each other and speak of unrelated things."

"Well, throw them again, then!"

The Seer rose with a disdainful sigh, "I cannot throw them again because they would say the same thing or even less.  We must wait for some circumstance to change."

The Prince began to stroll around the room, shaking his head in frustration, "Look at me change, woman, I'm in a new spot every second.  Surely the stones will have some new insight."

The Seer gathered her stones in one swift swipe of her bony hand.  "No," she snapped, "The stones know when you try to fool them.  Go back to your palace and decide on something unimportant.  Return tomorrow and that unimportant something will change everything."

The Prince went home furious and cursing the Seer.  "That awful woman thinks she knows everything just because she's made some lucky guesses in the past.  But she has no right to push me around!"  In his chambers he pondered, "What unimportant decision could I make?  I am the Prince.  Everything I do is important!"  As he thought these words, his advisor entered, carrying a letter from the Count of the New Meurells.

"The Count requests an audience, my lord," he said.

"How do you know?  Have you been reading my mail again?" snapped the Prince, snatching the letter for himself.

"No," sighed the advisor, "The messenger told me.  I suppose the letter says the same, but one never knows.  Especially with the lower ranks..."

The Prince ripped open the seal as his advisor spoke and quickly looked over the letter.  There was a moment of silence as he considered its contents.  "The Count requests I consider his daughter Meleneche for my wife.  Where does he get off thinking I don't have my own ideas for something so important?"

"Oh, you have ideas, sire?  I've never heard you mention any."

"Careful, Edmond.  It's not wise to insult the intelligence of your betters."

"Forgive me, my lord, what I meant was you've never spoken of finding a wife."

The Prince flumpfed down in his soft thinking chair with a hand massaging his thinking beard.  "Now that I think about it," he mused, "it never has actually seemed that pressing to me.  Maybe it's even seemed...unimportant."

The advisor, naturally, was advised of the Seer's instructions.  "Well, you can say yes or no.  The main thing is that you decide, if you want another session with the Seer."

"Yes, yes, well at least I should see her before I decide, don't you think?" said the Prince absent-mindedly.

"She was at the Grand Ball a few months ago," reminded the Advisor patiently, "She was wearing that dress with too many sparkle-stones.  Most found her ostentatious."

"Ah, the girl with the black, wavy hair?"

"No, sire, I believe the Count's daughter is blond."

"Oh.  Huh."  The Prince did not seem perturbed by his misremembrance.

"She could be called up for a formal presentation.  Even if not for your bride, she could be a new lady-of-the-court.  We are short a few now."

The Prince drummed his fingers on the arm of his thinking chair.  "I guess we should invite her.  It's the least I can do, having been asked directly."

"At once, sire," said his Advisor, with a short bow as he left the room.

The Count's daughter arrived several days later, in a carriage that looked as if it had been driven through the most hellish of swamps.  The door was opened and the young woman was helped to alight on the Prince's entrance path.  Her steps to the door of the palace were fast and determined, and once inside her heels clacked horribly on the slate floors.  The Prince heard her coming from several halls away and rubbed his temples in pre-frustration.  She appeared in the door, paused, and strode into the room.  In spite of having traveled in the carriage, she was wearing a riding costume with its heavy skirt and her hair was tightly braided as if for a ride through the country.  The Prince noted her pale face, which gave her an air of shock.  She came with heavy steps into the hall, stopped before the Prince and curtsied curtly.  She said, "It was my father sent me here, I'll have you know.  I had nothing to do with it."

The Prince rolled his eyes.  "But you're here now, aren't you?  Do you know what your father's plans were?"

"To marry me off, I suppose."

The Prince shifted impatiently, "Or get you to the Court where you could bring glory to your family."

The woman met his gaze with an icy stare," Yes, but the end result would be the same.  Court women are expected to marry court men, at least after a time."

The Prince stood up abruptly, "Well it's not a law, is it?  You can be here, being glorious without a husband, can't you?"

"People expect things, sire," said the woman simply, and she turned to go without waiting to be dismissed.  "Where are my quarters?"

"Oh, ask Edmond," grumped the Prince, flopping down again in his chair, and turning his face from the door.  The Count's daughter clopped out in her noisy boots.  "My unimportant decision must be 'no'," mumbled the Prince.

But the next day they ran into each other as they were both leaving on a hunt.  Neither could hide the mortification and frustration at inadvertently interfering in the other's affairs.

"Good morning, lady," said the Prince, and he spurred his horse towards the woods.

"Good morning, sire" grumbled the lady, and she guided her mount towards the mountain road.

The Prince found himself a little put out that she had organized her own hunt.  Nobody had such initiative in his court!  Maybe she would be a good addition after all.  The Prince was distracted in his hunt, thinking of what the Count's daughter would say about his choices of bait, chase, and subterfuge.  He returned to his palace after some hours, without prey, but with a feeling of mild disappointment.  He also returned to a woman triumphant.  The Count's daughter had gone into the mountains and her crowd had hunted out a large boar, much larger than those normally found, and had killed him.  The Prince, on the other hand, had nothing to show for his efforts but an empty bullet pouch.

"I congratulate my lady on her kill," he said gallantly, upon seeing the hunting party and their prize.

"'Twas not my doing," she said, withdrawing from his backpatting hand, "My huntsmen killed him."

"But you lead the hunt, plotted the chase, I assume."

"Well, yes, but that's the easy part, my lord.  Anybody could spot and follow a boar of such size, but bringing it down takes more strength than most have."  The huntsmen grinned with stupid pride at her words, and Prince David found himself admiring her modesty.

"This beast shall make a fine centerpiece at the ceremonial dinner," he proclaimed.

"What ceremony?"

"Well, Lady Meleneche, I gather you will be staying at the court one way or another.  Your success today merits you a formal welcome."

She looked suspicious and spoke as if ashamed, "I had hoped to send the head or at least the tusks to my father.  You may be aware that we both have a wall full of trophies at his country manor."

"I was not," admitted the Prince, "but I see no reason why the head cannot be sent while the body is prepared for the feast."  Edmond the Advisor stepped up to the Prince and hissed something into his ear.  "Er, after the taxidermist stabilizes it, of course," the Prince sputtered, "The journey is long, after all."

The Count's daughter was mildly impressed by the Prince's generosity, as well as amused by his lack of knowledge of the treatment of hunting trophies.  She bowed her head brusquely and hustled off to her rooms to change for dinner.