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Alfred didn’t know whether he was going to burst from happiness or throw up. Maybe it was because he was about to ask a royal princess for her hand in marriage. Maybe it was because his trousers and tunic were so blasted tight.
He had asked Sir Presley and Grigory for advice about his outfit over breakfast that morning. They had come from the Empire recently, which meant they had to know something about the latest fashions.
Presley had advised him to wear green, rather than blue. “Blue is the Sigor color,” he said. “It might look presumptuous.”
Grigory told him that the most fashionable young men in the Empire were wearing their clothes extremely tight. The professor must have noticed the skeptical glance Alfred then gave to his generously-tailored clothes and those of his lover, Sir Presley. Grigory laughed and said, “When I speak of ‘fashionable young men,’ I do not mean me and Presley. We have reached a comfortable middle age, and we do not need to look fashionable anymore.”
So, Alfred found a tailor who promised he could work quickly, and in less than an hour, one of his favorite green tunics and an old pair of dark green leather riding trousers had been altered so that they fit him almost like a second skin. He could barely sit down in them, but judging by the admiring glances they won from a number of ladies (and a few gentlemen) on his walk back to the Bocburg, they had the desired effect.
If he had known how tight the pants were going to be, he probably would have worn something else to his next errand—visiting the Bocburg nursery. But it couldn’t be helped. He had already gotten the blessing of the queen regent the night before, and even though she had not said that he must ask the king, as well, technically Edwin was the head of state and the head of the Sigor family. And that meant he had to personally approve the marriage of any Myrcian royal.
Edwin approved immediately, of course. Alfred wondered if his mother had warned him to expect the proposal, or if the boy king had already guessed it was coming. Probably both—Edwin was sometimes remarkably perceptive for a young person his age. Though other times he was very much a child, still.
After shaking Alfred’s hand, Edwin said, “I shall expect a detailed report about your honeymoon, of course.”
Alfred felt the blush run up his neck and over his cheeks. “Um...what precisely do you mean, your majesty?”
“I mean the places you go, of course. The palaces and the famous monuments and that sort of thing. And descriptions of any exotic foreign uniforms you might see, as well, so I can paint some of my soldiers to match.” Edwin sighed. “Of course, you’ll have to wait until after the war is over to go abroad. But that won’t be long now, will it? Just don’t forget to keep an eye out for new uniforms when you can finally go on your honeymoon!”
Alfred promised that he would and then asked if his majesty happened to know where his older sister had gone. All the preliminaries were finished, and it was time for Alfred to do what he had come here today to do.
As the king started to answer, Elwyn walked into the nursery, wearing a simple but very fetching brown riding dress. She had an old, well-worn volume in her hand, and she was saying, “Edwin, look at this! I found a book in the library on stag hunting that used to be Father’s, and....”
She saw Alfred and jolted to a stop like she’d fallen in one of Grigory Sobol’s cavalry traps.
“Hello, your royal highness,” he said, bowing.
“Sir Alfred,” she said. “How charming to see you here.” Her face turned a very becoming shade of pink as she smiled. “I...I didn’t expect to see you so early today!”
For a few long moments, neither of them could speak.
Edwin cleared his throat. “I say, the weather looks fine today. Perhaps you two might like to take a walk.”
“Oh, um...yes,” said Elwyn. “But, um...this dress and these shoes are terrible for walking.”
That was a blatant lie, but Alfred said, “Of course, ma’am.”
“Let me go change,” she said, dropping the book on a side table by the door. “I’ll be down the hall in my parlor. Come see me in a few minutes, Sir Alfred.” Then she hurried away.
He waited a full ten minutes by the clock over the nursery mantlepiece. King Edwin showed him some newly-painted soldiers, and Princess Alice ran in and showed him a doll with a new dress. He admired everything with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, all while constantly glancing at the clock.
The first time he went and knocked on the princess’s door, she said, “I’m sorry. I’ll be another minute or two. Maybe five. I do apologize.”
Six minutes after that, he came back to find the door ajar.
“Your royal highness?” He peeked around and caught a brief glimpse of her in a close-fitting dress of sleek blue silk.
“Alfred?” she said. “You can.... Oh, hold on. I just thought of something. Wait a moment, please.”
He pulled the door almost shut and counted to ten. Inside, he could hear rustling and Elwyn muttering something about “this stupid fucking lace.” Peeking through the tiny crack between the door and the doorframe, he saw her stuff something under the pillows on the window seat before throwing herself down on those same pillows.
“You can come in now,” she said, a little breathless.
He entered and saw her lying on the window seat, legs bare to the knee, back arched, head resting against the window frame.
“I wanted to see you last night,” she said, “but you were so busy with the celebrations.”
Well, that certainly sounded promising. Maybe the queen had been worried for nothing. Maybe Elwyn was already prepared for this. Maybe she knew what was coming.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It was all rather hectic, wasn’t it?”
“I’ve been trying to work up the courage to come find you, but now here you are. So, what did you need to see me about?”
“Ah, um....” He stammered and stuttered, trying to force the fateful words out, or at least to find the beginning of a sentence that might lead him around to those words. “I suppose her majesty, your mother, might have mentioned—”
“Can we have one rule today? Can we agree not to talk about her at all?”
At first, he worried she was angry, but then she winked.
“Of course. Um, what would you like to talk about, then?” He immediately hated himself for saying something so stupid.
“We don’t have to talk at all,” she said, grinning. “I’m a little nervous, to be honest.” She stretched her arms above her head. “Where do you want me? Here on the window seat? Over on the settee? Would you like me standing up?”
Clearly she wanted to know where she ought to be when he delivered his proposal. “Well, um...right there is fine, I suppose.”
He came closer, and she reached out for him. He took her hand and kissed it, then went down on one knee, stretching the tight trousers in uncomfortable ways. He had given some thought to his posture for delivering the proposal. Doing it from one knee was a bit of a theatrical cliché, but sometimes clichés became clichés for a reason. The single knee posture was classic.
Grinning, she swung one of her legs over, as if to rest it on his shoulder. But then she stopped and tilted her head to one side. Her eyes grew wide. She pulled the leg back and tugged the hem of her dress down to cover her knee. They both spoke at the same time.
“Your royal highness, I have the honor—”
“Fuck me. She wasn’t kidding about—”
They both stopped.
“I’m sorry, you were saying?” he asked politely.
“What? Oh, nothing. Just...say what you’re going to say.”
He had gone too far to stop now. “Your royal highness, I have the honor to ask for your hand in marriage.”
“Marriage.” Her head tilted even farther. “Isn’t that putting the cart before the horse?”
He had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but he soldiered on. “I, um...think we get along well together. I’ve come to feel a great deal of affection for you, and I hope I’m not mistaken when I say you seem to feel the same for—”
“Yes, but marriage?” She sat up abruptly. “I...I don’t think we should rush into anything, Alfred.” Her face was completely white now, and her eyes darted this way and that, looking everywhere in the room except at him. “It seems awfully sudden to me. Awfully sudden. I think we really need to think this through before.... Oh, Earstien, is that the time?”
She jumped up and brushed quickly past him, almost sprinting out the door.
“Elwyn, wait!” he cried, rising uneasily to his feet in his skintight trousers.
“Just remembered something I need to do. So sorry!”
Alfred stopped at the door, gazing down the hall where she had gone, too stunned to speak. He was too confused to know what to do next. He didn’t even know whether he should be offended or not. After a minute, he decided he might as well go find a drink somewhere.
He was about to leave, when something suddenly occurred to him, and he crossed the room back to the window seat where Elwyn had been. After rummaging under the pillows for a second, he felt smooth silk and lace, and he drew out a pair of very small and rather expensive-looking undergarments.
Now he knew what Elwyn had been doing when she asked him to “wait a moment.” And he realized that she had expected an entirely different kind of proposition from him.
With a muttered oath, he stuffed the unmentionable garment back under the pillows. “I never know what to expect with her,” he said to himself. “And every time I think I do, I turn out to be completely wrong.”