Neil of Tanith - Part 3

Two hours later, Neil and Nick were bumping along a tree-lined avenue, approaching the Castle at Bondure. Not Bondure Castle; no, the authorities had to be sophisticated and call it Castle at Bondure. The younger prince was staring out the window, breathing deeply and slowly, trying desperately to calm his frayed nerves by pretending he was underwater and counting sheep.

"Neil?"

"WHAT?" He jumped up and slammed his head into the carriage's low velvet-lined ceiling. Nick raised an eyebrow. "Ouch. I mean, what?"

"Tense, brother dear?"

"No, not tense. Somewhat upset, yes, terrified, maybe, but no, not tense, not tense at all. Why? Don I look tense? I don't look tense, do I? I can't look tense. Could you please tell me if I look tense? No, can't look tense. I'm not tense. Me? No. I'm the epitome of untenseness. I rule on high above all untense people. I — "

"OK! Fine, Neil, you're not tense. Now would you please calm down? You're making me tense just watching you."

"Yes, but I'm not tense, be— I'll shut up now."

"Hmmm. It's like you've never been engaged before."

"Good reason for that," Neil grumbled.

"Well, honestly, I think you're making a much bigger deal of this than you should be. I mean, how bad can marriage be? And besides which, it sounds like you're getting a fine wife. I here Celeste's gorgeous."

"Then you marry her, dimwit."

"Hey!" Leaning over, Nick shot his brother a look of mock anger. "You're one to talk about dimwits. I certainly didn't say 'gee,' 'Dad,' and 'uh' all in one breath. Protocol wasn't too happy with that."

"Could I help it? The entire kingdom gawking at me as if I were a one-headed dragon just doesn't work wonders on the self-esteem. And then Dad — I mean Father — jumping in with his blasted announcement." Groaning, he slumped farther down in his seat and shoved his cock-eyed silver circlet back into his black curls. "Where'd he ever get the idea that I want to be married, for God's sake? I still can't believe it."

"Really, Neil, it's hard to believe you're 18. Now sit up: I hate to act like the older brother that I am, but you're wrinkling your doublet, and you if anyone should know that first impressions count."

Sighing for what seemed like the 173rd time that day, Prince Neil of Tanith obeyed. He wasn't looking forward to this, but if he showed up a mess, his father would kill him on top of everything else. So he went back to counting fish — uh, sheep, he reminded himself.

Several minutes passed. Suddenly Nick's head shot up and he peered closely out the window. "Say, that looks like— Oh, esteemed groom-to-be, we're here."

"Great," Neil muttered. A tiny prick of apprehension shivered up his spine. They were actually — gulp — there.

"Remember, Neil, be polite and gracious and confident. Don't say 'uh,' don't fidget, and for Tanith's sake, don't keep readjusting your crown," as the prince flushed guiltily and pulled his hands back to his sides. Nick shook his head, sighing. "And don't worry. Celeste won't bite your head off. I promise. She's a lady."

"A twenty-year-old lady, not even a princess. Protocol'll have fun with that one."

"She's respectable, Neil. Now knock it off, or else I'll bit your head off."

"Mmmmm..." But the boy was too busy watching the Castle at Bondure loom into view. Bondure was, quite rightly, dubbed the most picturesque kingdom on the continent, and the enormous structure that crouched on the horizon did little to disprove the statement. Now old and veined with ivy, the yellowed building was one of the most impressive Neil had ever seen. It was of an architectural style that had all but disappeared in the 200-some-odd years during which it had stood, with its many courtyards and balconies and columns. Each arched window was neatly paned, each entryway barred with heavy oak doors. As the carriage rumbled ever closer, the prince caught a glimpse of a richly-frocked footman helping his father emerge from the carriage in front of him, followed by his mother the queen.

"Ready?" Neil heard his brother ask.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

The carriage jerked to a halt, and the footman opened the door.