The Prince

Tyset II: Chapter 3

Chapter 3





“He’s not very handsome, is he?”





Lady Mavigna Maria looked at her young charge.  “I’m sorry?”





“Master Adrien.  He isn’t very handsome.”  Taking the footman’s proffered hand, Tyset allowed him to help her into the sleigh.  Stepping up beside her, Maria sat and focused on arranging her skirts for a minute before replying.





She had instantly had reservations when Tyset told her what it was she wanted to do.  Go out, meet some Artists, then pick from amongst them a single one to patronize.  A contract, she had said.  She would enter into a binding contract with her Artist from which neither she nor he could escape.  The very ideas that had come into Maria’s head at the thought of such a thing…how repugnant!  How repulsive!





Looking at the girl, then and now, Maria did not believe that Tyset understood the full implications of what she wished to do.  She seemed to, she had that air about her—always had.  But truly?  No, the girl couldn’t have the faintest of clues as to what such a contract could lead to.





Of course she had cautioned Tyset.  Of course she had told her that, while this contract may seem all well and good, that there may come a time when she wished to end her relationship with the Artist.  She had tried to drop clues about what she meant—Lord help her, Maria had prayed at the time, but such thoughts were not proper for a lady, let alone actually speaking them.  But, Tyset being Tyset, she had simply stared at her before giving Maria a huge smile.  Looking for all the world like she had just had the biggest epiphany of her life, it had been the girl’s eyes that gave her away.  That and the fact that she had not been disgusted by the revelation.





That, too, was something strange about Tyset.  At thirteen Maria had been running around flirting with every boy she happened to meet.  Whether he had been her age or even a bit older she had batted her eyes at him.  She had snuggled up close to boys when they were trying to concentrate; whispered softly, sweetly in their ears; worn tight, low cut dresses that not only propped up her burgeoning breasts but had also shown them off to great affect.  At one point her entire goal in life had been to see how many boys she could make fall head over heels for her before the week was up.





Tyset did none of these things, however.  Many more snowflakes here in the city than had been available to Maria out in the country, Tyset only wore drab, loose fitting dresses that covered every inch of skin that boys found enticing.  She didn’t play, she didn’t flirt, she didn’t even seem to know that boys existed.  It made Maria sad.





What made her curious, and angry today, however, was that Tyset did not, would not even try to understand.  She simply pretended!  What kind of thirteen year old girl simply pretends to know about boys?  What kind only tried to make others think she is curious about sex?  What thirteen year old girl was not, in truth, consumed by thoughts of it?





Exasperated by all this, Maria hoped she was not the only one who had thought and done such things at the age of thirteen.  She would simply die if she ever found out that she was.





However, hearing the word ‘handsome’ coming out of the mouth of her charge, that made her heart flutter with relief.  Tyset was thinking about such things!  If not to the fullest, then at least she was thinking of them in the least amount.  She was normal!  It made her heart flutter with excitement for the girl.  Although, this day’s outing was not supposed to be about finding a handsome Artist.





“Is that important?” Maria asked, responding to Tyset’s statement.





The girl shook her head.  “No.  But it would be nice.”  Smiling shyly, Tyset glanced down at her hands where they lay clasped together in her lap.





Oh God, Maria thought.  Tyset wanted a handsome Artist.  A handsome, young Artist.  Maria would bet an entire month’s wages on that.  How had she not seen this coming?  She wanted one so she could practice her charms on him, whatever those might be.  So she could learn those games that men and women play with one another.  To learn how to flirt.





It had been loads of fun when Maria had done it.  Her parents arguing constantly with her during that period, she knew they had thought differently.  And, now that she was, in effect, Tyset’s mother, she could see where her own had been coming from back then.





“I’m sure it would be,” Maria answered.  Then, sighing, she said, “Well, I’m ready to go home.”





“What?” cried Tyset.  “Now?”





“Well, yes.  We have visited several different Parlors today and, frankly, I’m a bit tired.  Let’s go home.  Driver, take us home.”





The driver’s whip cracking over the backs of his team of reindeer, the sleigh pulled into the heavy traffic of Artists’ Lane.  “No, please,” Tyset begged, her hands raised in supplication.  “Just one more?  Please Lady Mavigna, ple-ease.  Just one more?”





Mustering as much weariness as she could, Maria sighed once again.  “Fine.  But only one!”  Leaning forward, she tapped their driver on the back.  “Take us to the Meridian.”





Tyset could hardly contain her excitement.  She had not been out, truly out, in months, Maria knew.  Today’s excursion was simply the most fun the girl had had since her mother’s passing and, obviously, she didn’t want it to end.





“Where are we going?” the girl asked.





“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”





“What?”





“I said, that’s for me to know and you to find out,” said Maria with a smile.  “What?  You’ve never heard that before?”





Tyset shook her head.  She repeated the phrase, rolling it around in her mouth.  Beginning a third time, Maria put a hand on her knee.  “Just wait.  You’ll like it.  Trust me.”





Nodding, Tyset turned to stare out at the passing scenery of Artists’ Lane.  Named for its Artists’ Parlors, the lane was second only to the Meridian itself in number and quality of its Parlors.  Lying more densely than on the Meridian, for it was a smaller road, the lane was lined from nearly end-to-end on both sides of the road with Artists’ Parlors.  It was the perfect place to go for what Tyset wanted.  Traversing it since the inexplicable early end to the morning’s court, it was now the middle of the afternoon and Maria felt like they had been there all day.





Riding in silence for several minutes, Maria finally turned to her charge.  “Tyset, what do you think of those Artists we have met already today?  Any conclusions as of yet?”





“Well, Master Charles was kind, but he had a lot of clients.  I thought it was very noisy and hot in his Parlor.  Cluttered too, he should clean it up.”





Cluttered?  Noisy?  For a moment Maria had been afraid the girl would just prattle about how old Master Charles was, nearly the age of the Baron.  But perhaps Tyset could be objective today.





She was right, however.  Master Artist Charles’ Parlor had been very cluttered.  Dust and hair lying everywhere from the floor to the countertops, the man had not even seemed to possess a broom.  The physicians of West Gate said that cleanliness in the home and workplace both was a key ingredient to a healthy life.  Hot too, and the waiting room’s seats already filled with several customers, Master Charles’ was not at all the kind of place Maria wished for Tyset to patronize.





“What about Mistress Amandine?” Maria said.  “What did you think of her?”





“Very big,” said Tyset.





Maria laughed.  Mistress Amandine was the owner of the largest Parlor on Artists’ Lane and the third largest in the Meridian.  Taking up an entire block, her Parlor rose three stories into the air and was possessed of a staff of some twenty Artists.  It also had a number of tailors, cobblers, hair stylists, a bar stocked with food and the makings of hot drinks.  Even its own school.  Just like all the other large Parlors.





“Very big?  Is that all?”





“Well, Mistress Amandine was nice.  But very old.”





“Old?  She’s only twenty-six.”





“Yeah, like I said.  Old!  Really old!”





“I’ll have you know, little lady, that I’m twenty-four.  If she’s very old at twenty-six, what does that make me?”  Tyset giggled.  “Huh?  What does that make me?”





“OLD!”  The girl doubled over with laughter.  Grabbing her around the shoulders, Maria tickled her mercilessly.





“Old?  You call me old?  Oh, you’re going to get it now.”





By the time they turned onto the Meridian itself Tyset was all worn out.  Her face red, she lay across the seat gasping for air, a few giggles intermittently escaping her still.  Maria gazing down on her, she waited for the girl to catch her breath.  “Had enough?” she asked finally.





“Yes, yes.”





“Good.  Now, tell me what you really thought of Mistress Amandine.”





Sitting up Tyset licked her lips and said, “She was very nice.  A lot was going on but she took time to speak to me.  I liked all the stuff too; the tailors and hair cutters, the food at the bar looked really good.”





“I feel a ‘but’,” said Maria.





“But,” Tyset nodded, “there were an awful lot of people.  More than Master Charles’.  It has all the things I want but there is no privacy.”





“You mean you don’t want to be taking your coat off in front of people.”





Tyset’s grin fled like the night before the dawn.  Her face falling, she clasped her hands in her lap and glanced down once more.  “No,” she said softly.





Oh, now I’ve done it, Maria thought.  Go and remind her how this whole thing began and there goes our day.  And it was turning out so nicely, too.





Thinking quickly Maria put an arm around the girl and pulled her close.  “Well, if you didn’t like Mistress Amandine’s then I don’t think you’re going to like the next place either.”





“I’m not?” Tyset asked, in that same, somber tone.





“No.  But don’t worry, I know another place.”  Tyset looking up at her, Maria smiled.  “There’s even a handsome young Artist.”





The girl’s attitude lifted immediately.  “Really?” she said excitedly.  Smiling down at her, Maria leaned forward and bade their driver to change course.