Malachite Palace, Lysannum
Princess Jade's maid woke her well before dawn, bringing in her breakfast. Jade ate as much as she could, stuffing herself, since the likelihood was that she wouldn't get much opportunity to eat later in the day. Xenia click-clacked into the room on her hooves, yawning and stretching and looking satisfied after her night with the king. Once Jade had finished eating, she visited the palace baths, and Xenia helped her wash from head to toe with the plain, cheap, unscented soap that Jade had insisted upon for this occasion and not the scented, flower-filled soaps that were usually provided. Then, once she was clean and dry, she put on her running shoes, and slipped the ruffled gauze dress on over her head, and settled her heavy breasts into the supportive pockets sewn into the dress. Finally, she slung a waterskin over her shoulder.
When Jade and Xenia exited the baths, her father, Biblis, Jade's ladies in waiting, and a few trusted servants were waiting for her.
"Wish me luck," Jade said.
Her father hugged her. "If I was thirty years younger and not your father
I'd
give you a run for your money," he complimented her. "You're a vision, Jadie. Go and get caught... but not
too
soon! Good luck!"
Jade exchanged farewells with her other well-wishers, then stepped into one of the palace's bolt holes, and shut it behind her. It took quite some time to make her way down the secret passage and emerge into a woody copse some way out of town. It was still dark, and the stars twinkled in the cold night air that made her nipples tighten and ache. She looked around to ensure that she wasn't being observed, then emerged from the copse and began to jog in the direction she had previously planned, beneath the light of the full moon. Exertion would help warm her against the chill morning air. Jade listened to the bells of Lysannum as she ran.
Prince Rodger need not have worried about missing the start of the challenge. Bells rang out, and a herald was bellowing a summons for all men who wished to try their suit with the princess to present themselves at the palace to register. Rodger had already eaten and armed himself, and emerged onto the plaza across from the palace, and crossed through the mob in the plaza to the palace doors, where the prospective suitors were assembled.
The head of the line was dominated by many of the suitor princes from the other nations of Etherion. Given the number of men who thought that they had a chance to catch the princess, Rodger wouldn't have been surprised if it took until noon to clear the queue. However, it soon became evident that the kingdom was dealing with the problem by throwing personnel at it. There was a line of desks that had been brought out onto the palace driveway, each with a bureaucrat, a ledger, writing tools and a lantern.
The queue soon led Rodger to a desk where an unattractive, spectacled, middle-aged lady with iron grey hair pulled back into a bun sat beneath a flickering lantern suspended from a wooden pole.
"Name, please?" She asked absently.
"Prince Rodger Cymonson of Galadon", Rodger answered.
The woman's head snapped around in surprise to look at Rodger properly.
"My apologies, your highness," she said. "We were not expecting any other royalty than..."
"Not to worry," Rodger replied while the woman was writing down his name in her ledger. "I was here on personal business, not Galadonian, so I wasn't expecting to be recognised."
"Thank You for being so understanding, your highness. Now, since you're not an Etherian, is there anything you'd like to ask about this situation? "
"I gather that this is some sort of custom?" Rodger waved at the desks.
"Well... actually, a bridal challenge can be completely informal, however sometimes accidents happen, and this process assists in locating the next of kin... or the culprits. Oh, you don't need to worry, all challengers must still follow the law of the land, and the gods see to it that cheats never prosper," she finished. "So, any questions?"
"Well... not right now, thanks. Perhaps later, though..."
"Very well, your highness. Please take this token as acknowledgement of your suit," she handed him a small, oval wafer of bright copper stamped with an image of the Princess in court dress. "Please retain this until the challenge is settled, you may need it until then."
As the horizon was beginning to lighten with the approaching dawn, the last of the waiting suitors were finishing their registration, and the Royal fanfare sounded from the balcony overlooking the crowd.
"Good Morning, gentlemen!" the king called out from the balcony. "Thank you for answering my daughter's call for suitors who are prepared to compete for her hand in marriage.
"The nuptial challenge is an ancient custom that has existed in Etherion for as long as there have been kings who have daughters. It is seldom practised, since no matter their title, Princesses are women, and the challenge is a custom that is inherently unpredictable, and few women relish such unpredictability.
"I speak to you from a position of experience in the nuptial challenge; I myself was the winner of the last challenge issued by my dear departed wife. However, my wife's challenge was to write an argument favouring one's suit, while my daughter's challenge is rather more physical.
"Many of you will have heard her challenge when she issued it, but I will repeat it for you now: At dawn, all participants shall depart upon a hunt, with Princess Jade as the quarry, and she shall belong to the first man who can find her
and
claim her for himself!
"Now, gentlemen, you will have been given tokens signifying your suit for Princess Jade. These tokens may be shown in order to gain access to any place in my Kingdom in pursuit of my daughter, until the challenge is completed.
"So, gentlemen, all that remains is to await the dawn. Princess Jade has already departed the palace and awaits your pursuit." The king paused, and looked at the brightening horizon. As the balcony was bathed in the dawning light of the sun only moments later, the king spoke again, "Gentlemen, you may depart! The challenge has begun!"
There was a mad rush as men scrambled this way and that in their haste to begin their search. Pretty soon, the only men left in the palace grounds were those men whose infirmities were outweighed only by their ambition... and Rodger.
Rodger just stood in the square and looked around at the frantic men as they scrambled to place distance between themselves and the palace. He looked up at the balcony, where memory suggested that the first clue may have been there.
The king looked down at the palace courtyard where so many men had been only minutes before. There were a few crippled men making their halting way from there, and one knight in full plate armour, who just stood and watched the flood of humanity retreat. He looked like a foreigner... Perhaps he didn't know what to do... or perhaps he was cleverer than all the rest.
"Xenia, could you be a dear and help me?" the king turned and spoke into the room behind the balcony. "My hip is stiff this morning."
The topless faun slave girl stepped onto the balcony and smiled as she held out her arm for the king to lean upon as he limped inside.
Rodger wondered if the king had indeed required assistance, or if he had been offering a clue... he remembered now that the faun had attended to the princess when she had displayed herself for her suitors three days previously. The faun might have been privy to her mistress' plans. Rodger walked towards the palace door.
"Who goes there?" One of the two door guards challenged him as he approached, the two of them crossing the door with their halberds to bar the way.
Rodger held out the copper token he had been given. "I am Prince Rodger of Galadon," he announced himself.
The guard who had spoken examined the token, then withdrew his halberd followed by the other guard doing the same. "Pass, Prince Rodger of Galadon."
"Can I help you, Sir?" an older, greying serving man asked Rodger before he had gone very much further.
"Oh... Perhaps you can," Rodger replied. "I'm looking for Xenia."
"Ah... I expect that if she's not in her room, she'll be there soon," the man said, then he gave Rodger directions that were perfectly clear and direct, but complicated enough that anyone following them would need to pay attention and have a good memory.
"Thank you very much," Rodger replied.
The directions that Rodger had been given was the most direct route, but the Malachite Palace was not the product of a single plan but had been built in stages over centuries with no consistent vision, and was as convoluted as a rabbit warren. However, Rodger had grown up in yet another even more convoluted edifice, and also had a good memory, so he followed the instructions exactly, without succumbing to the temptation to try to take a short cut, even though the design of the palace was such that in one place, a short cut
appeared
to exist. However, after following the servant's terse instructions, Rodger could see why it would not have worked.
Rodger arrived at Xenia's door, a heavy wooden, ironbound object with a large lock and an outward-opening peephole, with a gap at the bottom that would allow food to be passed in. It was basically a dungeon cell door, much like the others in the dim hallway, a couple of floors below ground level.
Rodger rapped on the door with his knuckles since there was no knocker on the door.
"Come in!" a feminine voice called from inside. "There's no need to knock, it isn't locked, and I'm just a slave...!"
Rodger opened the heavy door and entered and saw the faun sitting at a simple table with her back to the door.
"...Though you might want to lock the door now you're inside," Xenia finished, rising from her seat and turning to face him.
"Are you Xenia?" Rodger asked, after sliding the bolt on the back of the door across. "I'm Prince Rodger of Galadon."
There was a flicker of an expression on Xenia's face that suggested that the faun had heard Rodger's name previously, though it was gone within moments.
