“All this is quite new to me,” said the Queen, slowly and sadly. “I thought only the lower orders regarded matters in that light.”
“But why should it make you unhappy, Ernestine?”
“Because it reminds me so strongly of my own marriage. At least I have had the comfort hitherto of feeling that there was something heroic about the way in which I was sacrificed, but you have taken away that consolation. I thought myself like Iphigenia, or that other poor princess—what was her name?—whose marriage with a man whom she detested set the seal upon a treaty; but now you make me feel that I was merely a counter in a very sordid game.”
“Exactly. I never felt that there was anything heroic about my engagement to Lord Caerleon, I assure you; but then, of course, I knew the game which was being played. Surely you must have seen it in your own case?”
“How could I? I was only sixteen, and you know what my life had been. You know that my mother and I spent nearly all our time at our castle in the mountains—for my mother’s health, it was said. When we came down to Weldart for the winter, my parents would appear together on public occasions, but they never met in private. Hitherto I have thought that they kept up appearances to prevent my being saddened with the knowledge of their dissensions, but I suppose you have a different explanation of that also?”
“Well, it would naturally have looked bad if they had separated openly, and eligible princes might have hesitated to take a bride from such a divided household. The family prestige must be considered in cases of this kind, of course. But tell me how the Fairy Prince came at last.”
“If you laugh at me, Ottilie, I shall hate you.”
“My dear Nestchen, I am not laughing. Heaven forbid that I, who gained my own way, should laugh at any one less fortunate.”
The Queen sat silent a moment, then began again, speaking hurriedly. “We came down from the mountains that autumn a little earlier than usual. I was very loath to leave the Castle, for I loved the free, wild life, and when once my lessons were over, I might roam about the hill-paths with my mother’s ladies, or—which I liked much better—with some of the girls from the village. But when we reached Weldart, I found that there were changes there. I was to take my place in society, my presence was expected at all the Court entertainments. That in itself was delightful, but there was more. The Palace was filled with guests. They came and went, but the King of Thracia and his suite stayed longest of all. He was the most distinguished man present, and he paid me marked attention. The ladies-in-waiting congratulated me continually in private. ‘Such a great soldier,’ they said, ‘so brave, so good, so wise, and he talks to no one but our little Princess!’ My head was turned, Ottilie. I thought him the handsomest and most courteous man I knew. He looked old, certainly, even for his years, but that, I thought, was due to the hardships of war. He saw that I took pleasure in his society, and it pleased him——”
“One moment, Ernestine. What was your mother doing while this was going on?”