《灰姑娘》第5章

The prince let out a sigh. He was tired of the endless hunts. The pageantry of it all …the racing endlessly through the forest after a helpless beast that had done nothing to deserve its fate. Yet he was the prince. The day's hunt had started out like any other. The baying of the hounds as the horn was blown. The initial rush he felt as the throng of horses took off, their heads pulling at the bits in their eagerness. But after that, the prince had felt nothing. He galloped along, his head a million miles away, as men whooped and hollered around him.

Suddenly, the prince spotted a different horse across the way, one that was sprinting haphazardly and was dangerously close to throwing its rider.

Quickly guiding his horse toward it, the prince reached out and grabbed the reins, pulling with all his might. The two horses slowed and started to circle each other. It was then that the prince got a good look at the girl astride the other horse. Her hair was tangled about her face, and her dress was mottled with mud. But when she looked at him, her blue eyes were clear and unafraid. For a moment, he found himself lost in their depths, seeing sadness behind the courage.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"I'm all right. But you've nearly frightened the life out of him," the girl replied.

Her answer surprised him and the prince cocked an eyebrow. "Who?"

"The stag," the girl said matter-of-factly. "What has he ever done to you that you should chase him about?"

The prince stifled a smile. It was amusing to hear his own thoughts echoed back to him aloud. "I confess I have never met him before. Is he a friend of yours?"

"An acquaintance," she answered. "We met just now. I looked into his eyes, and he looked into mine, and I felt he had a great deal left to do with his life. That's all."

For a moment, the prince was struck silent. He had never met a girl like this before. He was used to folks falling all over themselves to say whatever they thought would please him. But this girl? She was the most forthright person he had ever met. And he wanted to know more about her.

"What do they call you?" he asked.

To his surprise, the girl blushed, as though the question made her uncomfortable. "Never mind what they call me," she said.

The prince watched as she began to check her horse, clearly anxious to make sure he was all right. She seemed undaunted by the forest around her and the strange man in front of her. "You shouldn't be this deep in the forest alone," the prince said, trying not to stare at her hair, turned golden by the sun.

"I'm not alone," the girl said, shrugging. "I'm with you." Then she paused. "What do they call you?"

The question brought the prince up short. Clearly she didn't know who he was, and he didn't want to spoil the moment by revealing his true identity. He racked his brain, unsure what to say. Finally, he decided to tell her a part truth. "They call me Kit," he said. It was his childhood nickname, used by his father.

The girl nodded. "Where do you live, Mr. Kit?" she asked.

"I, uh, live at the palace," he stammered. "My father is teaching me his trade." Again, it wasn't exactly a lie. He did live at the palace, though his "trade" was not traditional.

"You're an apprentice?" the girl asked. "That is very fine. Do they treat you well?"

Kit was beginning to feel slightly guilty. He didn't want to lie to her, but this was one of the most interesting conversations he had had in a while. That would change if she found out he was royalty. "Better than I deserve, most likely," he finally answered. Then, trying to change the subject, he asked, "And you?"

A look of sadness flashed across the girl's face. "They treat me as well as they are able," she said.

"I'm sorry," Kit said, his voice gentle. For some reason, the sadness in her eyes made him angry. He wanted to find out who would cause such a look in a girl who seemed so strong.

"It's not your doing," the girl replied. Then she straightened her shoulders and her eyes grew bright again. "It's not so very bad. Others have it worse, I'm sure. We must simply have courage and be kind, mustn't we?"

Kit was taken aback. "Yes, you're right." It was a simple notion, but the girl said it with such conviction. It echoed his own feelings, and he felt himself on the verge of saying so. But then the sound of a horn echoed through the forest.

The girl looked panicked. "Please don't let them hurt him!" she shouted.

"But …we're hunting," Kit explained. "It's what's done."

"Just because it's what's done doesn't mean it's what should be done," the girl said. "Leave him alone, won't you?"

"All right," he agreed, smiling.

She returned his smile. "Thank you very much, Mr. Kit," she said.

Another peal of the hunting horn blasted through the woods, and at the edge of the clearing a man on horseback appeared. Kit stifled a groan. This was his captain of the guard, and he was obviously not pleased the prince had slipped his watch.

"Your High—" the Captain began.

The prince quickly interrupted him. "It's Kit. I'm Kit," he said, his meaning clear. "And I'm on my way."

An amused expression crossed the Captain's face, but he left it at that. Kit met the girl's gaze. "I hope that I will see you again," he said.

"And I, you," she replied.

Before either of them could say anything else, the horn gave another frantic blast, and Kit turned his horse. As he galloped away, he snuck one last look over his shoulder. The girl stood there, holding her horse's reins in one hand, the other raised in a wave goodbye. As she disappeared from sight, Kit felt a funny sadness fill his chest. She was the most interesting girl he had ever met. What if he never got to see her again?

The next day Kit stood in his father's bedroom, waiting as the royal physician finished his examination of the king. The older man stood there, clearly annoyed by a process that was becoming all too familiar. Finally, the visit over, Kit helped his father back into his tunic and then began to lead him toward a chair. But his father shooed him away and deliberately continued to stand.

"You sound as if you're the first fellow who ever met a pretty girl," King Frederick said, continuing their earlier conversation. Ever since Kit had arrived home from the previous day's hunt, he had talked of nothing but this mysterious girl in the woods.

Kit let out a sigh. "She wasn't a pretty girl," he retorted. Then he corrected himself. "Well, she was a pretty girl. But there was so much more to her."

"How much more?" King Frederick asked.

"You've only met her once. How can you know anything about her?"

Kit had a quick answer for that. "You told me you knew right away when you met Mother." The king groaned. His son was as stubborn as he had been at that age. "That's different," he snapped. "Your mother was a princess."

"You would have loved her anyway," Kit replied. That was true. His mother and father had had a grand love.

But his father shook his head. "I would never have met her, because it wouldn't have been appropriate. And my father would have told me what I'm telling you. And I would have listened."

Kit smiled. "No, you wouldn't." Then he turned to the doctor, who had been quietly packing up his tools and trying hard not to listen in on the conversation. "How is he?" The doctor took a moment, as though trying to figure out the best way to deliver the news.

The pause spoke volumes, and the king raised a hand, stopping him. "Never mind. If it takes that long to work out a way to say it, I already know it's bad."

"Father," Kit began, all earlier thoughts of teasing evaporated.

The king simply shook his head. "It's the way of all flesh, boy. Come. We will be late. And punctuality is the politeness of princes."

Kit sighed. There was no sense arguing with his father when his mind was set. So he helped the older man into his jacket, and together they strode out of the room.

In the corridor they were joined by two men, the Grand Duke and the Captain of the Guard. While the Captain was tall and muscular, the Grand Duke was shorter, his round belly sticking out over his pants. Despite their physical differences, the two men had two common goals—to keep the king and prince safe and to look after the well-being of the kingdom. How they did so differed, however. The Grand Duke followed the letter of the law to a tee; the Captain was a bit more lax, making him Kit's ally on more than one occasion.

"My King," the Grand Duke said as the men started walking down the corridor. He narrowed his gaze at Kit. "Your Highness. I am sure your father spoke to you of your behavior in the forest?"

"Is it any business of yours, Grand Duke?" Kit replied.

The Grand Duke puffed out his chest. "My business is your business, Your Highness," he said, sounding miffed. "It will not do to let the stag go free."

A flash of blue eyes and blond hair popped into Kit's mind, and he found himself echoing the girl's words. "Just because it's what's done doesn't mean it's what should be done." The three older men stopped and stared at him. Kit shrugged. "Or something like that."

The group resumed their walk. "Still the dreamer," King Frederick said, trying not to smile. While he would never admit it out loud, he remembered what it felt like to be young and optimistic. "I had hoped that a bit of campaigning would knock some sense into you." He turned and addressed the Captain. "What have you got to say?"

The Captain was an experienced soldier who had fought alongside the prince in many a battle. "I'd say the war knocked some common sense out of him, sir. While I have never seen a fellow more brave, he exhibited a very troublesome tendency to …think."

"Sometimes I fear for this kingdom," King Frederick replied, not sure whether the Captain meant his comment as a good or bad thing.

Silence fell over the group as they left the grand hall and entered one of the palace's many salons. An artist was setting up his paints. Upon their entrance, he bowed low.

"Make him look marriageable, Master Phineas," the king ordered the portraitist, causing Kit to groan. "We must attract a suitable bride, even if he is a terrible dunce."

"I shall endeavor to please, Your Highness," the artist replied seriously. Then, taking a quick look at Kit, who was doing his best to look awkward and very unmarriageable, he added under his breath, "But I can't work bloody miracles." He turned back to a large canvas that stretched at least a dozen feet into the air. Already the beginnings of the portrait could be seen—the prince, astride a beautiful horse, holding a sword high in his hand as though to say, "Onward!" The only thing left to do was the face—if Kit would cooperate.

The prince begrudgingly climbed onto a saddle on a sawhorse. "So these portraits will be sent abroad?" he asked out of the corner of his mouth.

"Yes," King Frederick replied. "If we can convince a princess of sufficient rank that you are not a dunderhead, we may secure a powerful alliance."

Kit started to laugh but a stern look from the artist stopped him. "At this ball you and the Grand Duke insist upon?" The ball had been the topic of discussion for far too long in his opinion.

"At which you will choose a bride," the king said. Kit shot him a look, and King Frederick went on, his voice stern. "It has always been done; it is how it will be done."

"We are a small kingdom amongst great states, Your Highness," the Grand Duke added. "And it is a dangerous world. We must get what allies we can."

Sitting on his fake horse, Kit wanted to scream. He had been born into this life. He had not asked for it, and now he felt as though he were a prized pig being fattened up to sell at market. He knew he was lucky in many ways. But the freedom of the girl in the woods? That was something he could never have.

"If I must marry," the prince said aloud, "why could I not wed, say… a good, honest country girl?"

The Grand Duke scoffed. "How many divisions of infantry would this ‘good, honest country girl' provide us?"

Taking a gentler tone, the king tried to make the point clear. "You will be king soon, Son. You know I am not well." The others began to protest but he hushed them and went on. "For myself, I do not mind. I have had a good life. But I would have you—and the kingdom—safe and secure."

Kit felt a wave of remorse for being so stubborn. His father was ill and he meant well. Suddenly, Kit had an idea. Perhaps there was a way to appease his father and get a chance to see the girl from the woods again. He knew that if his father met her, he would see why Kit was so intrigued. "All right, I will agree to the ball." The Grand Duke began to clap, but Kit went on. "On one condition. The invitations go to everyone, not just the nobility. The wars have brought sorrow enough." He looked at his father. "If you were in my place, you would do the same."

The king shook his head. "But I don't want to do what I would in your place. I want you to do what I, in my place, tell you, in your place, to do." Realizing that he was making no sense, the king threw his hands up in the air.

The Grand Duke, however, seemed pleased with the outcome. "I think we may have struck a bargain," he said. "A ball for the people, a princess for the prince."

王子叹了一口气。他厌倦了一次又一次的打猎。每一次都是大张旗鼓，场面壮观……还要长时间地在树林中奔袭，猎杀一只没有任何过错的动物。但他是王子。这一天的狩猎还是和以往一样拉开了序幕。猎犬的叫声就是吹响的号角。成群的骏马争先恐后冲出的那一刻，每匹马都使劲扯着马嚼子，他确实感到热血沸腾。但之后，王子就没有了兴奋的感觉。他骑着马一路飞驰，但思绪早已飞出千万里，完全没注意周围的人吵吵嚷嚷。

突然，王子发现一匹不同的马穿过道路，这匹马没头没脑地狂奔，眼看就要把马上的人摔下来了。

王子立刻驱马上前，伸手抓住那匹马的缰绳，全力拉住他。两匹马都慢下来，围着对方转起来。这时王子才细细打量了一下马背上的女孩。女孩的头发散乱地搭在脸上，衣服上沾满了泥水。但当她看向他时，她清澈的蓝眼睛并没有流露出恐惧。一瞬间，王子被这双蓝眼睛吸引住了，这勇敢的眼神里面还有一丝悲伤。

“你还好吧？”他问道。

“我没事，但是你们把它吓坏了。”那个女孩回答。

她的回答让王子很惊讶，王子挑了挑眉毛：“谁？”

“那只牡鹿，”瑞拉认真地回答。“它到底做了什么，你们要这么追赶它？”

王子忍住没笑出来。听到自己的心声从另一个人的口里说出来很有趣。“我承认我根本没见过它。它是你的朋友吗？”

“只是相识，”她回答道，“我们刚才遇到过。我看着它的眼睛，它也看着我的眼睛，我觉得它的一生还有很多事情要做。就这些。”

王子沉默了一会儿。他从来没见过这样的女孩，他身边的人总是费尽心思说些他们认为会让他高兴的话。但是这个女孩呢？她是他遇见的最直率的女孩。他想要了解这个女孩。

“你叫什么名字？”他问。

让他吃惊的是，女孩脸红了，仿佛这个问题让她很难堪。“我叫什么名字不重要，”她说。

王子见她又开始查看她的马，生怕它有什么闪失。身处密林深处，面对一个陌生男子，她好像一点也不害怕。“你不该独自到这样的树林深处来，”王子说，眼睛尽量不去看她被阳光染成金黄色的头发。

“我不是一个人，”女孩耸耸肩说，“不是还有你嘛？”停了一下，她又说：“你叫什么名字？”

她的问题让王子一下说不出话来。显然她不知道他是谁，所以他不想暴露自己的真实身份破坏现在的气氛。他绞尽脑汁，不知怎么回答。最后，他决定告诉她一部分事实。“他们叫我基特，”他说。这是他小时候的昵称，爸爸以前这么叫他。

女孩点点头。“那你住在哪儿，基特先生？”她问道。

“我，呃，住在王宫里，”他结结巴巴地说，“我父亲在教我学他的行当。”这话也不完全是假话，他确实住在王宫，尽管他的“行当”非同寻常。

“你是个学徒?”女孩问道，“那很好。他们对你好吗?”

基特开始感到有点内疚。他不想骗她，但他很久没有这么有趣地和人谈话了。如果她知道他是王室成员，他们就不能这么谈下去了。“好得让我受之有愧，”他答道。为了改变话题，他问道：“你呢?”

女孩顿时流露出黯然伤心的表情。“她们已经尽量好好地对我了。”她说。

“很抱歉，”基特轻柔地说。不知道为什么，女孩眼睛里的悲伤让他感到愤怒。他想知道到底是谁让这位坚强的女孩看起来如此难过。

“你没做错什么，”女孩回答道。她挺起肩膀，眼睛又变得明亮起来。“还不算太坏。我肯定这世上有人比我更糟。我们必须坚强勇敢，仁慈善良，不是吗？”

基特吃了一惊：“是的，你说得对。”这么简单的一句话，但是女孩却说得如此信心十足。他心里也是这么想的，所以差点也脱口而出了。这时森林里响起了号角的声音。

女孩看起来很惊慌。“请别让他们伤害它！”她喊道。

“但是……我们在打猎，”基特解释道，“这很正常。”

“正常并不表示这种做法就是正确的，”女孩说，“别伤害它，好吗？”

“好吧，”他微笑着答应道。

女孩对他也笑了笑，说：“非常感谢你，基特先生。”

又一阵号角声从树林里响起，一个人骑着马出现在一片空地的边缘。基特心里叫苦不迭。这人是他的侍卫长，看到王子溜出了他的视线，他显然不太高兴。

“殿——”侍卫长正要叫起来。

王子赶紧打断他。“是基特。我是基特。”他故意强调道，“我马上就来。”

侍卫长被逗乐了，但他没有刨根问底。基特看着女孩的眼睛说：“希望能再见到你。”

“我也是，”她回答。

没等他们再说话，又响起一阵急促的号角声，基特拨转马头。疾驰中，他又回头暗中看了女孩一眼。女孩站在那儿，一只手牵着缰绳，另一只手挥动着向基特告别。看着她消失在视线中，基特心中感到一阵莫名的难过。她是基特遇到的最有意思的女孩,如果以后再也见不到了怎么办？

第二天，基特站在父亲的卧房里，等着御医给父亲检查身体。父亲站在那里，显然这司空见惯的检查程序让他厌烦。终于，医生检查完了，基特帮父亲穿上外衣，然后想扶他坐到一张椅子上。父亲朝他嘘了一声，故意站在那里不动。

“你说得好像只有你遇见过漂亮姑娘一样，”弗雷德里克国王接着他们之前的谈话说道。基特昨天打猎一回来，嘴里谈的都是他遇到的那个神秘女孩。

基特叹了口气。“她不是个漂亮姑娘，”他反驳道。然后又纠正道:“好吧，她是个漂亮姑娘。但是她可不只是长得漂亮。”

“还有什么呢？”弗雷德里克国王问道。

“你只见过她一次，怎么会了解她呢？”

基特立刻回答道：“你告诉过我，你和母亲不也是一见钟情吗？”国王叹了口气。儿子和他年轻时一样固执。“那不一样，”他喝道，“你母亲是一位公主。”

“但无论她是不是公主你都会爱她，”基特回答。确实如此，他母亲活着的时候和父亲十分恩爱。

但他父亲摇了摇头：“那我就不会遇到她了，因为那样不合规矩。换了是我，我父亲也会这么教训我，而我会谨遵父命的。”

基特笑道：“不，你不会的。”接着他转向御医问道：“陛下怎么样？”他们争论时，御医一直在旁边悄悄地收拾工具，尽量不去偷听他们的谈话。医生考虑了一下，仿佛在想怎么告诉他们这个消息最合适。

医生的犹豫让他们明白了一切，国王举起手打断了他：“没关系。你这么吞吞吐吐的，我就知道凶多吉少了。”

“父亲，”基特叫道，前面和父亲斗嘴的念头都抛到了脑后。

国王摇摇头：“这是所有生命的规律，孩子。来，我们要迟到了。守时是一个王子应有的美德。”

基特叹了口气。父亲一旦拿定了主意，跟他争吵也没用。他帮父亲穿上外套，两人一起走出了房间。

走廊里，两个人迎了上来，是公爵和侍卫长。侍卫长高大健壮，而公爵则个头矮一些，挺着圆圆的肚子。尽管他们长相大不相同，但他们有两个共同的目标——确保国王和王子的安全，为王国的富强效力。但他们的做法也不相同。公爵奉行的是法律条文，不能有任何马虎；侍卫长就没那么刻板，所以经常和王子站到一起。

“陛下，”公爵一边沿着走廊走一边说道。他眯起眼睛看着基特说道：“殿下，想必陛下已经跟您谈过您在树林里的所作所为。”

“这和您有什么关系吗，公爵？”基特回答。

公爵挺起胸膛说：“您的事情都和我有关系，殿下。”他的口气听起来有些愤怒：“您今天把那只牡鹿放掉的做法不合常规。”

基特的脑海中突然浮现出瑞拉的蓝眼睛和金黄色的头发，他不禁说出瑞拉的话：“正常并不表示这种做法就是正确的。”国王和两个大臣停下来看着他。基特耸耸肩道：“或者和这差不多的意思。”

四个人又继续朝前走。“还是成天异想天开。”弗雷德里克国王忍着笑说道。尽管他不会大声地承认这一点，但是他还记得年轻时积极乐观的心情。“本以为带兵打仗能让你有点理智。”他转过头问侍卫长道：“你有什么要说的？”

侍卫长身经百战，曾经和王子一起浴血奋战过。“我觉得打仗反而使殿下把一些常识抛到了脑后。虽然我从没见过比他更英勇的战士，但他有一个很麻烦的苗头……就是思考。”

“有时我很为这个国家担心，”弗雷德里克国王回答，他不知道侍卫长刚才的评价是褒奖还是批评。

四个人都沉默了，他们走出大礼堂，走进王宫里众多画室中的一间。一位画家正在摆放他的颜料。国王他们一进来，画家便深深地鞠躬致意。

“把他画得像个要娶妻室的男人，菲尼斯大师。”国王对画家要求道，基特听了叫苦不迭。“哪怕他是个大傻瓜，我们也要给他找一个合适的新娘。”

“我尽力而为，陛下。”艺术家严肃地回答。他快速扫了基特一眼，基特却极力做出笨拙、不适合结婚的样子来，画家压低嗓子接着说道：“但我可创造不出奇迹。”他转过来看着巨大的画布，画布支得有十几英尺高。肖像已经初见端倪——王子骑着一匹漂亮的马，手里高举着宝剑，仿佛在呼喊：“前进！”唯一剩下的是面部——如果基特愿意合作的话。

王子不情愿地爬上锯木架上的马鞍。“这些画像会送到国外吗？”王子撅着嘴问。

“是的，”弗雷德里克国王回答。“如果我们能找到一位合适的公主，让她相信你不是个傻瓜，那我们就可以结成强大的联盟。”

基特笑了起来，但艺术家严厉的目光打断了他。“就在您和公爵坚持要举办的这次舞会上？”对他来说，这次舞会已经讨论太长时间了。

“这次舞会上你要选择一位新娘，”国王说。基特看了他一眼，弗雷德里克国王继续用严肃的口吻说：“以前一直是这么做的，以后还会是这样。”

“我们是一个夹在大国中间的小王国，殿下，”公爵补充道。“这个世界危机四伏，我们必须争取缔结更多的同盟。”

坐在假马上的基特只想大声尖叫。他一出生就面临着这样的生活。他并没有祈求这种生活，他感觉自己现在就像一头被视为宝贝的猪，等长壮了就要被牵到市场上卖掉。他知道自己在很多方面都很幸运，但是像树林里的那个女孩般自由自在？他永远不可能拥有这种自由。

王子大声说：“如果我必须结婚，那我为什么不能娶……比如，一个诚实、善良的乡下姑娘？”

公爵讽刺道：“这个‘诚实、善良的乡下姑娘’能给我们带来多少步兵？”

国王想用更温和的口气把事情说清楚：“你马上会成为国王，儿子。你知道我身体不好。”其他人赶紧劝慰国王，但他打断了他们，继续说道：“我自己的事情，我倒不介意。我这一生很幸福。但我想要你——还有整个王国——平平安安。”

基特为自己的固执感到一丝懊悔。父亲生了病，他是一片好心。突然，基特有了一个主意。或许有一个办法既可以安抚父亲，又可以有机会再见到树林里的那位姑娘。他知道如果父亲见了她，就会明白自己为什么会念念不忘。“好吧，我同意举办舞会。”公爵高兴得鼓起掌来，但基特继续说道：“有一个条件。邀请要传达到每一个人，不能只是贵族。战争带来的悲伤已经够沉重了。”他看着父亲说：“如果您是我，您也会这么做。”

国王摇摇头说道：“但如果我是你，我不会只做我愿意的事情。我想要你做我让你做的事情。”国王意识到自己的话根本没起作用，无奈地举了举双手。

但是，公爵好像对这个结果非常满意。“我想我们已经达成协议了，”他说，“为人民举办一场舞会，为王子寻找一位公主。”