Chapter Two: A Knightly Education for Princess Anlei
Prince Consort Bevin bent over his computer in his private office off of his private apartment. Though he and Isabelle had almost always shared the same bed since their wedding, it was customary for the sovereign to maintain her or his own spacious apartment in the palace and the consort to maintain her or his own, separate but nearby apartment in the palace. The palace was designed to provide a private garden for each apartment—and a force field screen to prevent consort and sovereign from seeing one another should each choose to be in their gardens at the same time as a means of protecting each one’s privacy. In political marriages where neither loved the other, this arrangement of space allowed each to maintain an official, if need be, lover, for those occasions when the sovereign was not interested in maintaining the relationship physically, though of course such practices were frowned upon, though not altogether unexpected—for either side.
Still, in matters of intimacy, the sovereign held power over the consort and yielded power only when it suited her or him. To ensure proper boundaries, even the closest of couples kept their respective personal belongings in their respective apartments and allowed servants to shuttle things like clothing back and forth as needed to accommodate practical use of only one bed for most of the time. This may have seemed inconvenient, but by doing so, each was also guaranteed her and his own space, a sanctum not shared by the other in times of stress.
Important to the design of each royal apartment was the office built into each. Spacious and exceedingly comfortable, the sovereign and consort each held their own work spaces, complete with the latest and best computer technologies and equipment.
Advanced communications equipment inside all the royal apartments enabled the royal family to speak to anyone on Beinan—and nearly any known star system for that matter. The current system had a range of more than two million light yen-ars, easily reaching systems nearby galaxies. On his last meeting with engineers, Prince Bevin was told that within one yen-ar they would be able to more than double the current range to 5.2 million light yen-ars and to expect someone to stop by in about fifty beinors with the upgrades. That was good. The better the communications, the more secure the planet would be. Among the reports on his desk: confirmation that his wife’s younger sister’s body had, indeed, been found by survey droid sent there to investigate what happened to her some 75 yen-ars ago on D425E25 Tertius, a distant world just under two million light yen-ars from Beinan.
The scans indicated she died when her cipher was removed from her neck. There were neither signs of the cipher nor of any other Beinarian technology for that matter to be found by the survey droid. Bevin knew, as a knight of Ten-ar, that the princess had not been the first Beinarian to visit this planet on the edge of known space—not remotely. But Princess Anyu visited an unknown region of D425E25 Tertius, a natural move for a dedicated student scientist like Princess Anyu, but hard on High Priestess Wehe, particularly in the beinors following Anyu’s final report. For twenty one beinors High Priestess Wehe grieved, deeply depressed. Thirty beinors after Anyu’s death according to the droid’s report, Wehe returned to palace life to celebrate the wedding of her daughter Isabelle to then Lord Knight Bevin. Remembering back to his wedding beinor, Bevin recalled seeing grief reflected deep in his mother in law’s eyes. Only now, with the final report on his wife’s little sister’s death did Bevin finally understand what clearly his mother in law knew without doubt at the time.
The door chimed. At first, Bevin did not hear it, so lost was he in memory. The chime rang again. Finally, Bevin looked up and commanded the door, “Come.”
Lord Culain, an agile warrior 125 yen-ars old and, at 57.6 cun 寸 tall, a rather tall Beinarian, stepped into Bevin’s office, his red hair flaming against his green eyes. At his side he carried a sword in an elaborate scabbard. Culain grinned at Bevin and hugged him warmly, “Lord Bevin. By the goddesses…how many yen-ars has it been?”
“It’s ‘prince’ now…you may not have heard, but I married well,” smirked Bevin.
Culain explored Bevin’s office with a few steps and gave a careful, watchful look around, “Impressive. What girl did you bed this time?”
“Oh, no one important…just some girl named Isabelle. You may have heard of her. You were at her coronation five yen-ars ago,” smiled Bevin. “Actually make that at OUR coronation. Or don’t you attend official functions of the knights of Ten-ar anymore? Last I checked it was required for all living knights to swear personal fealty to newly crowned kings and queens of Beinan.”
“You know how much I hate courts and politics. I made my appearance to please the knights and slipped away,” grinned Culain.
“Oh, I see,” teased Bevin.
“So old friend, what work keeps you so far from the monastery?”
“Politics! I have spent more shir-ors at the Great Hall of the Assembly than I ever thought possible. Don’t these politicians on the Great Council understand how their decisions affect the rest of us? The way they prattle and posture, seeking power and compliments – it makes me annoyed at best,” wringed a vexed Prince Bevin.
“If anyone can handle it, Bevin, it’s you. You are so devoted to your wife and children…how can you not fight for what is in the best interests of Beinan. I was at your wedding vow renewal ceremony back in BE 6300, but I was disappointed not to see your son Alastair.”
“Alastair died as an infant, just shy of his first natal beinor.”
“How?”
“The healers of Gurun and Ten-ar said – I can hardly believe their report – poison. Why would anyone want to poison my son?”
“You will never find the answer sitting here. Come, return with me to the monastery. Come home and see your brother and sister knights of Ten-ar. I promise a grand surprise for you – and your lovely daughter if you can convince her to stop pouting like the adolescent she is….”
“Don’t be too hard on Anlei, Culain. She’s at that age when she should be thinking about marriage and finding a proper husband. Instead, I feel this anger in her. She doesn’t believe in love or romance, only duty, the cold duty of a girl who feels like she must lie down, submit, and tolerate a future husband whose only interest in her is his own carnal lust and lust for power and wealth. I don’t see her wanted marriage or children…just accepting that she must endure such things in order to bear enough children to secure the dynasty. She is, in fact, the only adolescent girl her age I have ever met who feels so cold towards her future. She doesn’t dream romantic dreams like a girl, but feels…hunted. As a father it breaks my heart to see it.”
“Then take her with you to house Ten-ar, my liege. Do not delay in this. For I think there is someone, a squire perhaps, who may thaw your ice princess and inspire her towards greater optimism,” hinted Lord Knight Culain.