The Prince in Exile

Chapter 20

Preparations were swift and out of sight, until the final day before departure when the porters came to Erzsebet's apartments and began taking her things away for transport. She'd not seen the prince at all since the night of the ball, and no hint from Gertrude how their discussion might have gone.

Begrudgingly, Erzsebet had to admit that Andras had been right: Gertrude had needed no apology. Likely then that the prince had also suffered no rebuke, that it hadn't been much of a discussion at all. Perhaps the pair of them were in fact well-matched in the endl, as they both took Erzsebet by constant surprise.

The day of departure arrived, bright and sudden, like the breaking of dawn pulling one out of a confounding dream. The bustle was overwhelming; Erzsebet could hardly attend to what happened around her, much less make any complaint or suggestion. The only personal need she could manage was ensuring that Szog was brought along–an unnecessary concern, as it turned out, for the prince had already made accommodations for the stallion.

She was not to ride from the city, though, on Szog or any other mount. Instead she and Gertrude were trundled in an oversized carriage, along with a servant for each of them. Erzsebet had been given the choice for her own, and of course asked Herlinde along; Gertrude, as expected, brought her dear Sophie.

It had been years since Erzsebet had last ridden in a carriage: as a child, when her family had moved from Pozsony to Szerem. She didn't recall the going to be quite so bumpy, though perhaps at that age she'd had other concerns. As it was, crammed with three other ladies into the cabin, rocking and jostling, she feared her meager breakfast would come back up. Herlinde was kind enough to switch seats, so she might face forward with the carriage, and this at least was a faint comfort. Still, it was far from a pleasant ride.

She would not complain, though: the short walk past the soldiers to the carriage had been dreadful. Not one had made so much as a comment, but she felt their eyes upon her as she went, and knew some travel-nausea was not the worst she might suffer on the road. After all, she lacked the protection of being the prince's betrothed; whatever rumors might be circulating of her and Andras, there could be no promise of security. Best not to fan any flames without cause.

For that matter, would Herlinde and Sophie be alright? What kind of lodging might be expected for their servants? Hopefully a shared building–ah, but would they even have buildings? An encampment, did that not mean tents? How could she expect privacy in a tent? How would she dress, how would she bathe?

Too little did she know, and too much could go wrong. A reckless journey–why had she ever accepted his offer? Even with Gertrude here, calamity waited around every turn, and she would be so exposed–they rode towards the palatine, after all! She went willingly to him, planned to sleep with only canvas to protect her from his grasp. Recklessness, foolishness, idiocy!

"My dear, but you've gone pale," said Gertrude, leaning over to feel her forehead. "Are you well? Is the car too stuffy?"

"Hm?" Erzsebet snapped back out of her head. "No, I'm fine–just the rocking has me a little nauseous, that's all."

"Poor thing," Gertrude cooed. "Shall we get some fresh air? We could sit up with the driver, the seat looked wide enough."

"No, we'd better not." The thought of further exposure–

"But the day is so lovely! Come, you'll feel better." Already she was twisting, reaching to knock on the wood at her back, just beneath the driver's seat. "Slow down a moment!" she called. "We're coming up!"

"What's that, milady?" the driver shouted back, but Gertrude was already rising.

She shuffled between Herlinde and Erzsebet's cramped knees to unlatch the door, then pushed it open and stepped out, holding fast to the carriage's roof. There, with surprising daring, she managed to turn about on the little wooden step to face into the cabin, and keeping only one hand on the roof she offered the other to Erzsebet. "Come along, dear. If it doesn't suit you, we'll come straight back inside."