Chapter 52 Unexpected Opportunities

  When Henry and Francis Frell had walked to the fraternity, Henry told Francis it meant good lodging and good food.  Francis had hoped for more.  He hoped it would be an opportunity.  Opportunity for what he did not know.  But as second born, he needed opportunities.  Working in the castle had been one, and look where it took him?  All the way to college.

  The pledging had been easy.  They had needed to do little more than get to know the Lionhearts better, entertain them a little.  Francis had wanted to befriend them ever since that party he and his papa had gone to.

  Francis did do most of the work around the frat house.  He did not mind this.  He would learn what he could here as well as in his studies.  He is a merchant man.  He was learning how best to serve noblemen - and how to get along with them.  Surely there is opportunity in that.  Francis had no idea.

  Now here he is, gambling with Henry.

  Not his brother Henry, but Lord Henry Lionheart himself.  Lord Henry had been invited, and he was permitted to bring who he chose.  Henry and Lord Alexander couldn't spare the time away from the studies.  Thus Francis found himself back in the castle.

  As if it wasn't enough to be playing cards with the king and a nobleman, he was winning.

  Maybe, Francis thought, that isn't what I am supposed to do.  Should I let the king win?  What about Lord Henry?  Should I let him win?

  Or just let them think they're winning?

  Lord Henry had about the same number of chips he began with.  Was that intentional?  Perhaps a nobleman lets his king win, but not by too much.

  Francis tried to look forlorn.  Either for the sake of pretending to lose, or to pretend he can not win.  Subtly he eyed the pot.

  "Men, this pile is mine," Lord Henry announced with delight.

  "Oh!"  Was that me?  Oh my, it was.

  "Francis I am so glad I brought you instead of my brother."

  That's it.

  "You're just a good player Lord Henry."

  But not as good as me.

  Pile of tokens prepare to grow.

  Lord Henry held strong, but Francis' pile grew steadily.

  Francis took King Lovejoy's discomfort as a sign to bet a large stack of tokens.

  "Well played Francis."

  "Thank you Your Majesty."

  And that is what it is like to gamble with a merchant man.

  "Excuse me gentlemen.  I think I have returned enough taxes for an evening."

  "It was kind of you to invite us Your Highness," Lord Henry replied.

  "As fun as this was, it is not the main reason I asked you here Lord Henry.  I also have some business to discuss with you."

  "I apologize Your Highness.  I thought this was a social visit."

  "Indeed it is.  That is why I asked you to bring this fine card player here."

  Francis couldn't believe it.  He knew very well that it was an open invitation for Henry to bring who he chose.  Yet here is King Lovejoy, going out of his way to make a merchant man comfortable.

  "If you will please excuse us Frell.  Please, take your leisure elsewhere in the castle.  We will be awhile."

  Lord Henry audibly swallowed.  So noblemen get nervous too.

  Francis stood, bowed, and left the room.

  What now?  As much time as he had spent in the castle, this is the first time he had been here as a guest.

  After a little wandering, Francis ended up in a music room.  A fine harp stood in the corner.  Would it be wrong to run his hand along the finish?

  "Hello," a feminine voice reached his ears.

  Francis nearly jumped.  He had almost been caught touching the royal family's harp.

  "It is proper to turn and face a lady."

  Francis turned slowly.

  "I apologize m'lady-"

  Francis swallowed his words.

  "Your Majesty," Francis said, bowing deeply.

  "Rise.  Let me look upon your face."

  As the young lady studied Francis's face he gazed softly at hers.  When he had worked at the castle, there were no ladies of her age.  Perhaps she is from another kingdom.

  "Turn about."

  "Your Majesty?"

  "Turn all the way around."

  Francis turned.

  "Are you related to the young man that used to sit in the confessional in the royal chapel?"

  "I am that young man.  Allow me to introduce myself Your Majesty.  I am Francis of Frell."

  The young lady gave a regal curtsy.

  "I am Princess Jean Lovejoy."

  Francis was struck dumb.  This was little Princess Jean?  Wasn't she the younger of the two?  The silver crown teetering upon her head stood as a reminder.  The elder princes wore a gold crown.

  "I am sorry Princess.  I did not mean to disturb you."

  "Francis, stay with me."

  Francis hesitantly turned back toward the Princess.

  "As you wish Princess."

   "Francis, if you don't mind.."

  Princess Jean reached out her delicate hand.

  "That muscles is tight.  I know what to do.  Turn around."

  For a moment, Francis quite forgot himself.

  "Please Princess.  I am but your humble servant.  I should be serving you."

  For the briefest moment, he thought she would place her hands in his, but then she dropped them.

  "Perhaps we could dance instead."

  Before he knew it, Princess Jean's hands were in his.

  As they danced he let go of her right hand.  He slowly slid his hand up her arm, resting it on her shoulder.

  At last he chanced a look at her.

  Her eyes watched their hands, still clasped.  And then it happened.  Their eyes met.

  Her hand slipped from his.  Feeling flustered Francis continued to lead her.  Then she reached for his shoulder.  Delighted he let his hand drift toward her dainty waist.

  Entranced, Francis pulled her closer.

  Francis closed his eyes and breathed in her lavender scented skin.

  Francis heart beat faster.  He gazed in Princess Jean's face, her eyes closed, her lips parted...  Francis leaned closer.

  He let out a slow breath, watching as it made wisps of her hair tremble.

  "Princess!" Francis admonished.

  "Do you wish me beheaded?"

  Francis pulled her regal little hand off his behind.

  King Lovejoy would surely forgive his little Princess such a little indiscretion, but Francis?  He had to set her straight.

  "Jean," he scolded, "you are a princess.  What do you think would happen to a young man caught with your hand on his backside?"

  Being a princess, he thought she might stamp her little foot and tell him to get out.  She didn't.

  Francis's anger slipped away.

  Gently he let her go.

  I placed that look, upon her face?
  "You won't come back, will you?" she asked in a small voice.  "I mean, to spend time with me?"
  She would want to see me again?
  Francis answered gently, "If you wish it Princess Jean."
  "But..." her lower lip trembled ever so slightly.  "There are many who would entertain a princess, and none who would deny me if I commanded it.  I was hoping you might...."
  What is it about her that pulls my heart so?
  "Might what Jean?"
  "Might want to.  Not because I commanded, or wished it, or asked.  I have ruined that possibility."
  Then Jean did what a princess must never do.  Her face turned toward the ground.
  "Princess, surely there is no one who would not want to spend time with thee."
  She looked up at him uncertainly.
  "I can think of nothing I'd like more."
  "Even after what I have done?"
  Oh I have been cruel.  She is a princess.  Surely she has never been scolded for anything, all her life.  And for what?  Doing exactly what I secretly wanted.
  "Yes."
  She flew at him.

  "I'm sorry Francis," she mumbled into her shoulder.
  The poor lass.

  "There now," Francis murmured, his hand gently stroking her back.   The scrape and thump of chairs in the distance reached Francis's ears.  That could be King Lovejoy and Lord Henry.
  "Princess, I must be going.  I don't want to keep Lord Henry waiting," he said, pulling away.
  "I await your next visit."

  Francis could barely tear himself away.  He had to force himself to leave her presence.
  "Ah, Francis, good, you're here," King Lovejoy greeted.  He turned his attention back to Lord Henry.

  "You and your friends should come back, often."

  Neither of the young men saw the other's reaction to this statement.