The Paper Crown

22. The Steeplechase

The steeplechase begins at a village church some five miles out of the city and ends at another little church on the city outskirts, not far from the palace. Along the winding road which connects the two churches, barriers of twigs, mounds of earth, and ditches of water have been built. Crowds of spectators line the road to watch the race. The wealthier of the city's inhabitants occupy the churchyard by the finish line, with tents set up for refreshment and shelter and garden chairs brought in for little old ladies to sit on.

I wait there along with the others. The starting line is out of sight beyond the horizon, but several young men, including Barany and Valery and Konrad, have climbed the bell tower so that they can see it. They cheer and wave above us when the race begins.

I drift through the crowds in the churchyard, wondering when Mariusz will be in sight, feeling very out of place when everyone else seems to have someone to talk to. Even Celina is standing with two other young women and saying something with a sly smile that makes them laugh.

Zofia and Henryka have not come with me today. Dowager Duchess Maria refused to let them. Without them or Mariusz, I have no one to talk to. Barany would at least be company, even if we cannot really talk, but he is up in the bell tower.

I drift closer to Celina and her friends. "How long is the race?" I ask them in French.

Celina looks coldly at me and says nothing.

"The winner normally takes about twenty minutes," one of her friends says. "We can see him in about five."

Celina says something to her in Selician, with another sly smile. The woman giggles. I know Celina is talking about me.

I turn away. At least I will only have to waste five minutes before I can disguise my isolation by watching the riders come in.

I am not the only lonely woman here. The small, rather plump, red-haired woman I have seen about court is also drifting rather awkwardly through the churchyard, eddying on the edges of other people's conversations as though she wishes to be invited in.

She meets my eye then quickly looks away. I cannot tell if it is fear or shyness.

I look down the road, but no rider has yet appeared on the horizon. Slowly, unsurely, I make my way to the woman.

"You are Prince Konrad's wife, no?" I say in French.

"Yes." Her voice is soft and high. "You must have forgotten my name. We were introduced at your wedding. I am Lady Irena Ledelek."

A lady. Since Konrad's title is a courtesy only, Lady Irena's father must be a count. But she does not have the confidence I expect of nobility.

"How old are you?" I ask. "Eighteen?"

"Twenty-one." She seems slightly ashamed of it. Her fair cheeks darken to pink.

She is older than me then, though she looks younger thanks to her mannerisms and height. And her face, which is very round. In fact, it is her face and height which makes her seem plump — up close, I can see she is not really plump at all.

"Do you have older brothers?" I ask, curious as to where her shyness comes from. "Many mean brothers?"

She shakes her head. "I have one sister, younger and very kind."

Our conversation dies. We look at the crowds around us, then back at each other.

"Do you have brothers?" she asks eventually.

"No. No brother, no sister. It was just me."

"That must have been lonely."

"I think I liked it best that way."