Prince Caspian -Jung Yoonoh NCT

4. He's Family

"Yes, but it'll make it smart."

He kneels by a hollow in the rocks filled with the residue of the tide, and his subsequent grimace proves the truth of my warning. 

"Who's Carey?" he asks, intent upon his task. 

"Miss Han, my governess, I always call her Carey."

His eyes flash up to me.

"Good grief, how ancient! Why didn't you go to school?" 

"Well - er - there isn't a suitable one near here and Grandfather didn't want to part with me; besides, he - he didn't approve of modern young people. He said they'd no morals, manners or sense of responsibility."

He laughs softly, and looks at me, his eyes amused.

"How prim you sound..." He adds, a little grimly, "like a little nun."

"Your grandfather must have been a relic of the Middle Ages, but he'd no right to turn you into an ignomarus."

"I know perfectly well what an ignomarus is," I say coldly. "It's just a grand word for idiot. But I'm not! Carey's a very good teacher, and she's got all sorts of degrees and things. She says I'm quite bright at history, languages and English, but not maths, that's my weak point." 

"I wasn't doubting your academic qualifications, my child," he says drily. "What I meant was, you probably know a great deal more about the ancient Britons than modern homo sapiens."

"I know that's Latin," I say triumphantly, "and means the human species." 

"Of which I'm a specimen, a modern specimen, and as such I represent the decadent age from which you've been so carefully excluded."

I flush, wondering if I have been rude, or whether he is laughing at me.

"I didn't mean anything personal..." I falter. 

"I'm sure you didn't. Well, do I give you the impression that I've no morals, sense of responsibility or manners?" 

He stands up. folds his arms and regards me quizzically, inviting my inspection. I make a fluttering gesture with my hands. 

"How can I tell? I've only known you five minutes, and I don't think you're very polite to try to twist everything I say." 

He laughs good-humouredly. 

"You have spirit, I must say, for one so young. And you've never wanted to rebel against this isolation?"

"Why should I? We were very happy together, Grandfather and I. We didn't need anybody except each other." 

Against my will, my lips tremble, and I turn away my head so that he would not see the tears that had risen to my eyes. 

He says gently, "And now - what are you going to do with your life?" 

"Nothing. I'm waiting for Cousin Mark."

"Indeed?' he raises his eyebrows. "And who is Cousin Mark?"

"Mark Jung, the heir. He's in Korea and I'm engaged to him."

"You're what?" he exclaims. 

"Engaged to be married to him. It was in Grandfather's will."

"Good lord!"

He looks so taken aback that I stare at him in surprise. "But surely..." he begins, and then checks himself. He gives me a lop-sided smile. "You've met your fiance, of course?" His expression was enigmatical. 

I shake my head. "No, never."

"You mean to tell me you've let yourself become engaged to a total stranger?"

"He's not a stranger, he's family," I say defensively, defining Mark as I have defined him to Carey. "Someone who has the same name as mine can't be called a stranger." I look at him uncertainly. "But you wouldn't understand, Grandfather says people today don't believe in traditions."

He smiles again, and this time the smile was wholly charming. 

"Not to that extent,' he says lightly. "Anyway, one doesn't expect a nereid to contract a human betrothal. Suppose you tell me all about it?"

He indicates a ledge of rock and sits down. Somewhat warily I seat myself beside him, carefully pulling my scanty dress over my knees. I feel a rush of eagerness to tell my story, for except for a disapproving Carey, I have had no confidant during the sad days following my bereavement. It is a relief to pour it all out, even though my companion has not so far been very sympathetic. I  conclude my recital by saying, "So you see it's my duty to marry Cousin Mark."

"How nice for him," he comments wryly. "But good grief, child, it's an impossible situation. You've spent all your life stuck up here without meeting anyone of your own age. You're completely ignorant of the world and its ways. You've no experience of men, or women, while this Mark ... do you know how old he is?" 

"Not exactly, but I think he's middle-aged." 

"Oh!" He looks disconcerted, then he goes on vehemently, "Don't you see, he'd be a skunk if he took advantage of your ignorance and innocence to hold you to this ridiculous bargain to strengthen his wealth." 

I say with dignity, feeling offended, "It's not in the least ridiculous, and I like older men."

"But, child, you haven't lived at all, and he may have ... er ... lived too much!"

I stare at him, puzzled. 

"I don't know what you mean, and of course Grandfather knew what was best for me. He told me Cousin Mark would look after me."

My companion shifts impatiently. 

"So you're prepared to be handed on from one old man to another?" he asked with exasperation. "And you shouldn't need looking after if you're really grown up. An adult woman stands on her own feet."

Involuntarily we both glance down at my bare feet; they look fragile and babyish, the brown toes curling amid the grey sand, but their appearance seems to annoy him. 

"Don't you wear shoes?" he asks curtly. "You could cut your feet on all this slate." 

"Oh, yes, my sandals are over there," I wave a vague hand, "but if I don't marry Cousin Mark, I'll have to leave Ravenscrag, and that would break my heart."

"I suppose it hasn't occurred to you that your cousin might break your heart?" He speaks almost roughly. The dark eyes with their specks of gold meet my bewildered stare.

"Why should he?"

"An arranged marriage can be hell."

I smile with a hint of mischief. 

"Are you married?" 

"God forbid! I like my freedom too well." 

"Then you can hardly be an authority on the subject," I point out, "you're a ... a..." I cast about in my mind for the appropriate word to describe him, and my reading comes to my aid, "philanderer!" I say triumphantly. 

He looks like he wants to laugh, and leans back against the rock behind him and surveys me lazily through half shut eyes. Something in his expression makes me faintly uneasy. I lower my lids and turn away my head.