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."

Again, our conversation dies. I look around the churchyard and see Celina watching us.

"Tell me about Lady Celina," I say. "She is bothering me. She flirts with Mariusz."

The pinkness in Irena's cheeks darkens to red. "Oh no."

"She does. Is she in love with him? Is that what I did to earn her hatred?"

"Oh." Irena touches her red cheeks. "Oh. No. No, she can't be in love with him."

"Why not?"

"It would be impolite."

"And she is impolite. So it would suit her."

Irena blinks her mousey eyelashes rapidly. "Oh dear. No, no I don't think she is. They are very good friends." Irena looks wistfully in Celina's direction. "She is very beautiful, isn't she?"

"I don't think so."

"Oh." Irena is shocked into silence once more. I give her time, and eventually, she says, tentatively, "You don't like her?"

"She flirts with Mariusz."

"She flirts with everyone. I think I understand. Her husband was so old that—"

"Her husband?"

Irena nods. "She is a widow. Count Vovesni died two years ago. It was shortly after Konrad arrived at the palace with little Florian. I think it surprised everyone that Konrad married me when Celina was newly freed — horrible to use that word, but she was freed when Count Vovesni died. He was so old."

"People expected Celina to marry again so soon?"

"Oh yes. It was tremendous gossip." A light comes into Irena's hazel eyes. "I adore gossip, isn't that horrible of me? I never have much to say myself, but I love listening to people talk."

"So do I. Though I'm not fond of being talked about."

"Oh no. That is humiliating." Irena giggles nervously. "We are such hypocrites, are we not?"

"I think it is only natural." I watch Celina laughing with her friend. "Tell me more about Celina. Why did she marry such an old man?"

"The usual reason. Her family had no money, so they sent their eldest, most beautiful daughter to find a rich husband, and she did, in Count Vovesni, the king's treasurer."

"And now he is dead and she is rich."

"He is dead, and she is poor," Irena corrects. "They had no children, so his fortune went to his nephew. King Adam pitied Lady Celina, so he invented a role for her: Mistress of Ceremonies. It allowed her to stay on in the palace, without going back to her family. I don't think she ever forgave them for making her marry Vovesni. He was a horrible old man."

"I can't imagine Celina ever being made to do anything. She was probably as ambitious as her family."

"I don't know. I was too young at the time to really take much interest in it." Irena falls into silence, but this time we are not silent because we do not know what to say but because we are thinking. "It makes me glad I have Konrad."

It is an odd match. Konrad is sophisticated and knowing. Irena is innocent and gauche. But perhaps that is what Konrad found appealing.

The crowd around us starts to cheer. A horseman has appeared over the horizon. Irena and I move together to the churchyard wall and strain our eyes to see. More horses appear, leaping over the barricades. I wonder which rider is Mariusz.

Soon, the lead riders are close enough to make out the colours of their riding coats. Mariusz was wearing blue and red, the colours of the duchy. He is not among them. Slowly the riders get closer and the spectators in the fields alongside the road begin to cheer, but I watch the back of the race. At last, I see the flash of peacock blue that I think is Mariusz on his black horse. He is straggling at the back of the pack, but he manages to keep his seat on his horse as it leaps the barricades. In front of him, a rider falls off, but he swerves around and keeps riding.

Around me, the entire church yard begins to cheer. I look away from Mariusz for a moment to see two men in the lead galloping the last few yards to the finish line at the church gate. I turn my gaze back to the crowd of slower riders, heedless of the winner. It takes me some time to find Mariusz again. He has passed several riders and is pushing his horse even faster now. He jumps a ditch with ease but has to slow a little to manage a high fence of piled branches.

Only a thin stretch of road separates him from the finish line now. He disappears behind obstacles then rises above them, slowly gaining on the rider in front of him. On the open stretch of road before the church gate, however, his horse slows to a canter, impervious to Mariusz urging it on, and another rider passes him. Laughing, he rides slowly through the gate waving a ribbon of gauzy silk over his head. Celina's stocking. People laugh as he passes through. More than a few send me amused, knowing glances. They must think it is my stocking. My cheeks burn.

"What is it?" Irena asks. "I can't see from here. Your scarf?"

"Not a scarf." I do not wish to admit whose it really is. "I wish he had not. He embarrasses me." Humiliates, even, though my humiliation is secret where my embarrassment in public.

Irena smiles in confusion. She seems to think it wisest to ask no more questions and takes refuge in silence, but we stay together as the last stragglers of the race trail through. Afterwards, there is a brief ceremony in which the winner is presented with a gold cup and cheered and clapped. Grooms take the horses away for bran and rub downs. Some of the spectators start to head home. Others pile into the tents for food and drinks and celebration. There is always a cause for celebration in Selica.

I look at Irena. "Are you coming to the royal tent?"

"I would rather not. There is always a lot of busy talk. I prefer the quiet."

"Unfortunately, I have to join the busy talk. It was lovely talking to you today though. We will speak another time, Irena."

It was not precisely lovely, but it was informative and she was pleasant to me. I am in no position to refuse a friend. She smiles and curtsies, and I move away into the royal tent. Someone has brought out the champagne and Mariusz is being toasted. Celina's stocking is draped around his neck like a cravat. Barany and Valery are clapping him on the back as they drink champagne. Someone sees me and calls out my name. Men push me towards Mariusz. I understand the phrase 'lucky' or 'luck'. I am not quite sure which. I try to pull back, but the men push me forward until I am next to Mariusz. When he sees me, his smile falters until he laughs guiltily to restore it.

His guilty laugh infuriates me. "I don't know why they're saying I'm lucky when you lost."

"But I finished the race. Let me kiss you, for the audience."

"No."

"They expect it."

"I said, no."

I push away through the crowd towards the table of food and champagne. Keeping my mouth full will keep me from saying anything I might regret later. Mariusz laughs off my rejection and continues celebrating. I eat an apple pastry and am halfway through another when Konrad comes to the refreshment table to pour himself a cup of tea. He bows slightly in my direction.

"Your husband rode well," he says. "I watched him from the bell tower. I think if he were to really put his mind to it, he could win one day. But he never has put his mind to it."

"Why should he? He is a prince, his ambitions should be higher than being a jockey."

Konrad smiles. It is one of his polite, disagreeing smiles. "You are right, of course. He is very busy putting his mind to being a prince."

We watch Mariusz drink champagne, his arms around Barany and Valery. Very busy, indeed.

"I saw you talking with my wife during the race," Konrad says.

"I was, yes."

"She must be dull company for you."

"Not at all. I like her."

Konrad looks surprised. "Really? Though I suppose there are very few women your age at the palace."

"Only Lady Irena and Lady Celina." I cannot help the coldness that comes into my voice when I say Celina's name.

"Ah. And Lady Celina you do not like."

I watch Konrad carefully, trying to gauge through his expression what he thinks of her. "She is not very kind to me."

"She is rarely kind," Konrad murmurs. "The word we use in Selician for women like that is svirepa. Cruel, like a cat."

"Svirepa." I like how it sounds. "What else?"

Konrad smiles, a proper smile this time. "A word you must not repeat, your highness." He lowers his voice to barely above a whisper. "Suka."

It is satisfying to say under my breath. "What does it mean?"

"The female dog."

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2024-08-18: We learn a little of Celina's backstory and finally meet Konrad's wife. And Alex learns a dirty word.