The King's Honour Read online

  But the other princesses mocked her. “Sister! You are too soft! Remember, his blood is not on our hands, but on those of the king, our father.”

  Their voices moved away, and Reuben heard a great rustling of dresses and good-natured squabbling over the looking glass as the princesses decked themselves in their finery and prepared for their frolics.

  As soon as he was sure he was no longer observed, Reuben sprang up. Always mindful of the little mouse nestled in his pocket, dearer to him than anything in this world or the next, he flung on the cloak the old woman had given him. After he had done so, he made his way softly to the looking glass that hung upon the wall to see if Corin’s grandmother had spoke truth, and indeed, it was as if he were no more than a shadow cast by the light of the candles flickering upon the dresser.

  Stealthily, Reuben crept out of his chamber. The last of the princesses laced her dancing shoe, and the others impatiently whispered to her to make haste. At length she was ready, and the eldest princess took a candle from the dresser and walked three times around the room, chanting:

  “The sun is set;

  The moon doth rise.

  Take us where our pleasure lies.”

  As she spoke the last word, a trap door appeared in the centre of the room. The princesses laughed and clapped as their eldest sister opened the door and stepped carefully down the staircase that lay beneath.

  Reuben hurried to follow, fearful he might be left behind. In his haste, he brushed against the shoulder of the youngest daughter. She let out a little cry. “Sisters! Something touched me!”

  But they paid her no mind. “You silly goose! It was only the spiders’ webs catching your dress.”

  And so they carried on down the stairs and emerged in a most wondrous place where the trees were made of silver and their leaves sparkled in the light of the moon. As Reuben came through the grove, the youngest daughter turned, and caught sight of a flicker of motion as he passed between the trees. “Sisters!” she cried. “I fear we are followed, for I saw something move!”

  “You simpleton!” they mocked her. “See, it is nothing but your own shadow!” For although they all looked directly at Reuben, the old woman’s cloak hid him well, and he seemed to them no more substantial than a shadow cast by the moonlight.

  They walked on, arriving at a grove where the trees were all of gold, leaves shining like stars. Wishing to take something to prove where he had been, Reuben snapped off a branch. The noise of it startled the youngest princess. “Sisters!” she cried again. “I heard a noise and I am sure we are followed!”

  And this time, they began to take her fears seriously, and Reuben worried he might be discovered—but the little mouse that was Corin jumped out of his pocket and ran about the feet of the youngest princess, squeaking loudly. At this her sisters began to mock her once more. “You foolish child! You are frightened of everything that moves.”

  Reuben breathed easily again as the little mouse ran back up his leg and into his pocket.

  They walked on and soon came to the shores of a great lake. The moon shone brightly upon the water, and on the opposite side of the lake lay a magnificent castle. Twelve little boats were moored at the water’s edge, and in each boat sat a handsome prince. Each of the princesses ran joyfully to a boat, where her prince greeted her with a kiss. Fearing to be left behind, Reuben jumped into the boat which held the youngest princess.

  They rowed across the lake, the prince complaining all the while that he had no strength tonight, for his brother princes easily outpaced him and the boat seemed far heavier than it ought. When they reached the other side, each prince swung his fair passenger out of the boat and they all proceeded to the castle.

  Music played: a wild, wanton song that stirred the blood and teased the soul. Reuben was glad once more that his love was with him, for this was the sort of music that steals the heart away. The princesses skipped and spun in their lovers’ arms, their feet seeming barely to touch the floor. As the night drew on the tempo rose, until Reuben could scarce distinguish one couple from another in their feverish whirl. The scent of candle smoke and perfume filled the air, and his eyes were assaulted by the rainbow of silks and satins worn by the dancers. Drunk upon it all, Reuben at length sought sanctuary outside, where Corin jumped from his pocket and, spitting out the medal, became human once more.

  Reuben clung to him, fearing to let go of the one solid thing in this reeling palace of the senses.

  Corin smiled fondly, and traced Reuben’s lips with a finger. “I think his grace the king is right to fear the consequences of his daughters’ actions. Yet, I cannot help but feel this trouble is of his own making.”

  Reuben returned the smile, but it had a rueful edge. “Aye, my heart. There’s no pleasure so dear as one which is forbidden.”

  “What will he do, do you think, when you tell him of these revels? For tell him you must, or your life shall be forfeit.”

  Reuben looked away from his love, and his soul ached with the emptiness that lies between the stars that call out to one another, regal yet alone. “I cannot think it will end well,” he said at last. “Yet perhaps it is right, so. For these fair maidens—if such they yet be—have caused the death of many a young man.”

  “And caused other young men to fear for those more dear to them than their own lives,” Corin’s hand brushed softly across Reuben’s face. Suddenly he shook his head. “But come, lover, let us not be melancholy, for there is music and moonlight, and ‘twere a sin not to dance!”

  So dance they did, alone and free in the gentle light of the moon, while the waters of the lake lapped gently at the shores and the strains of the music wafted out to them on the breeze. And if truth be told, they did more than dance to show their love for one another.

  At length the princesses emerged from the castle, their shoes now torn and tattered from their revels. Quickly Corin popped the medal back into his mouth and became a mouse once more, and Reuben donned the cloak and jumped into a boat, and they and the princesses were rowed back across the lake.

  * * * *

  In the morning, Reuben was summoned to the king’s presence. He walked proudly into the great hall where the king sat in state, his courtiers clustered around the throne. Behind Reuben tiptoed the princesses, and he wondered if their stony hearts felt joy or compassion as they anticipated what would befall him. In his pocket sat Corin, once more in the guise of a mouse, and Reuben’s heart sighed with love and tenderness as he felt his little companion tremble. He knew that Corin, though he would not confess it, worried Reuben might yet be tempted by the thought of marrying a princess, living in the castle, and being king hereafter.

  The king leaned forward with an eager gaze. “Well, man? What can you tell me?”

  The eyes of his advisors were hungry as they waited for him to confess his failure.

  “Sire,” Reuben began, his back as straight as ever and his tone of one equal to another, “I have learned where your daughters go at night.”

  The king’s expression betrayed his eagerness, but the courtiers muttered scornfully and behind him, Reuben heard one of the princesses laugh merrily. Undaunted, he recounted the story of the staircase, and the groves—bringing out the golden branch he had taken—and the lake, and the princes, and the castle. As he spoke, the king’s smile grew broader and more terrible, and the princesses wept and trembled to hear their secret had been discovered.

  At length Reuben finished his tale, and the king rose from his throne. “You have done well, young man, and you shall have your reward. You shall marry one of my daughters, and live in the castle, and be king when I am gone.”

  But Reuben stood boldly before the king. “I thank you, Sire, but I’ll tell you straight: had I any desire for a wife, which I have not, I’d still have no use for a woman who values her own pleasure above the lives of a dozen young men. I’ll tell you this also: a man reaps what he sows, and for all your fine talk of your family’s honour, the truth is there is none. You’re a man wi
thout honour, Sire, and you’ve raised your daughters to be the same.”

  Here the king half rose from his throne. His face was as white as the may-bells that bloomed upon the plains, and his whole frame quivered like monkshood in the wind. But when he opened his mouth, it seemed that he had lost the power of speech, so great was his agitation, and Reuben continued.

  “I am the son of your own sister, whom you had walled up alive in the name of that honour. A goatherd seeking a lost kid heard her piteous cries and rescued her. He took her home, and when I was born he raised me as his own.” Here Reuben had to raise his voice, for all around him were shocked murmurings and cries of “The princess!” and “Murder!”

  “A full and happy life they lived together, she more comfortable there in his humble cottage than ever she had been in this gilded cage of yours. But they are both dead now, buried side by side in the shadow of the mountain they both loved so well, and so I had a mind to come here and see this place where she lived her early life.

  “I came dressed as a soldier, ready to do battle and take back all that was stolen from her. But I find I’ve no stomach for the fight, now that I’ve seen what it is like to live in a castle, and to be king. For truly she missed it not, and indeed, I fear ‘twould leech all the honour and the joy out of me to bide with a man who’d kill his only sister and her blameless child.”

  There was a great clamour as Reuben finished his speech. As one, the people, who had listened in amazement and horror, rose up against their king. He was executed that very day in the shadow of the tallest tower, on the same spot where so many fine young men had met their death.

  “But what of his daughters?” the highest-ranked of all the courtiers asked Reuben. “Will you marry one, and be our king, now?”

  “Let their princes marry them, if they will,” Reuben answered. “And let one of them come here and be king. For I find I’ve no desire, after all, to live in a castle and be king, and I’d rather go back to my simple life now my task is done.”

  So he left the castle, taking his beloved with him, and they returned to the forest. They took back the gifts to Corin’s grandmother, who cackled with glee once more when she saw Reuben’s head indeed still rested upon his shoulders.

  * * * *

  And as for the princesses, eleven of them found, to their sorrow, that their princes, so attentive at their revels, had no desire to marry them. For it is a sad fact that many a woman, when taking a lover, seeks out a man in the image of her father, whether she knows it or not.

  But the youngest daughter, the only tender-hearted one of all of them, found her prince loved her truly—or, at least, well enough to marry her and gain a kingdom by it. And so the kingdom once more had a king, and, mindful of his own wife’s past, he paid no heed to foolish notions of honour, and proved a wise and benevolent ruler.

  * * * *

  And Reuben and Corin lived together in the forest in the simple manner they both had been raised to prize, caring for one another and for the old woman whose wise ways had helped them. And they never ceased to love one another throughout their long and happy lives.

  THE END

  ABOUT J.L. MERROW

  J.L. Merrow is that rare beast, an English person who refuses to drink tea. She read Natural Sciences at Cambridge, where she learned many things, chief amongst which was that she never wanted to see the inside of a lab ever again. Her one regret is that she never mastered the ability of punting one-handed whilst holding a glass of champagne.

  She writes across genres, with a preference for contemporary gay romance and the paranormal, and is frequently accused of humour. Find her online at jlmerrow.com.

  ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC

  JMS Books LLC is a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance, erotic romance, and young adult fiction. Visit jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!