Chapter 8
Prince Erik and Emma Da Vinci had taken to spending time together when Erik grew tired of being followed in public. At first the Queen had thought Erik was considering her, but Emma laughed and quickly dismissed the idea over tea.
"I barely have time to pursue my passions now, I hardly have time to be a princess. Besides, I'm a good ten years older than your son."
"Worse matches have been made," was all the queen had to say.
For the day's entertainment Prince Erik and Emma had gone to a lake just outside the city to test an invention of Emma's.
"I certainly can never thank you enough, Ms. Da Vinci,. You have a way with people I hope to attain one day." Prince Erik was carrying what looked to be small wooden boats and a few scrolls of diagrams while Emma stepped carefully to avoid kicking up mud onto her impractically white riding boots.
"If you call me Ms. Da Vinci one more time, I will trip you so you can smear every speck of mud from here to the riverbank on your tunic. Vinci is the town I am from. Da Vinci means 'from Vinci' in Italian. Now for the love of my sanity please just call me Emma. I certainly don't bother to say 'His Majesty, The Crowed Prince Of France' every time I address you."
Erik took a moment to recover. "So. I feel like a few weeks is hardly enough time to find my soulmate. Any advice?"
"I don't believe in soulmates, sugar."
"Why not?" Erik set down her little boats when they reached the water's edge.
"There are too many people in this world for me to believe there is only one other person who could bring out the best in us, and 'best' is incredibly objective. Not to mention the logistics of finding them." Emma took one of the scrolls from Erik and skimmed it for reference.
"But many people describe when they fall in love as finding their other half. I've met couples that knew each other well enough to predict what the other would say or think with remarkable accuracy." Erik took back the scroll and looked up at his surroundings, taking in the sunlight and the river.
"Your mother knows how I prefer my tea, and I've known her for maybe two weeks. My first studio master could tell what mood I was in by the weight of my brushstrokes." Emma went on passionately as she planted her two little boats in the shallows of the water and stepped into one, producing laces from within the boat to tie her feet in. "While it is a very intimate thing to truly know someone, we're all capable of knowing one another to remarkable depths if we let one another in. There are many kinds of love people can show each other, and it is unreasonable to believe that one kind of love is inherently more valuable than the others. People place the most weight on their romantic loves, yet it is most often a mother who would die for her child without hesitation, a brother who would murder and condemn himself to hell for someone else when he would not do it for himself."
Erik mulled over her words for a minute. "I suppose that's reasonable. But then, how do I figure out who to marry? It's impossible!"
"And yet you fought so hard for the right to choose!" Emma finishes tying down her other lace. "Tell me, do you think your father will burn me for witchcraft when I come back and tell him I've walked on water?"
"Pardon?"
Emma lifted her foot and the little boat attached out of the mud below the water and took a wobbly step forward. She grinned, looked back at Erik, and walked off onto the river.
******
Charles had spent the morning out picking mushrooms with Jean. They had found quite a few patches of them and filled a basket quicker than expected, so Jean had gone back to the villa while Charles lingered by the river to go for a swim. He felt at peace, floating in the middle of the river. Weightless and muted, as if suspended in time and space.
"Lovely day for a swim, isn't it?"
Charles jerked alert, his eyes flying open in shock to see a blonde woman in a white dress shirt /standing/ in the water next to him. His startle disturbed the water around him, sending ripples that knocked Emma off her balance. This caused her little boats to capsize, and Charles screamed as she crashed into the water with him.
******
Erik saw Emma fall into the water with a large splash.
Erik tried not to fret as she made her way back to the riverbank. When she came close, he realized she was not alone. Emma and the other person struggled to find footing as
they heaved Emma's little boats to empty them of water.
"I went out joking about playing God, and I come back with an angel!" Emma laughed.
"If any of us is an angel here, it would have to be you mademoiselle." Charles returned.
"Emma, call me Emma. And you are?"
"Monsieur DeLoncret!" Erik exclaimed in surprise.
Charles stood in the shallows with his moth agape. "I- Your Majesty! What a surprise!"
"Oh, so you know each other! What luck!" Emma handed Erik the little boat she was carrying.
Charles laughed nervously and wiped away the hair clinging to his brow. "I did not realize I'd have the pleasure of your presence today. I'm afraid I'm quite under dressed." He prayed his plain trousers and threadbare shirt were not recognizably pathetic when wet, or that they would both buy the excuse of being out for a swim.
"I would never go out for recreation in my nicer trousers." Emma comments kindly.
"No, but you'll test mankind's limits in white linens," Erik retorts.
"I like to see myself as a blank canvas! It keeps my mind flexible."
Erik laughs. "How was your fall, Icarus?"
Emma makes a face at him. "Not that I regret making your acquaintance, Monsieur DeLoncret, but it seems I did not design these to be able to handle any turbulence."
"You made these?" Charles asks in awe.
"I had some help from a woodworker in Florence, he showed me how to seal the wood together. I also consulted an acrobat on extreme balance techniques."
Charles was still baffled, but he saw Erik shrug, and accept the explanation. Clearly this was not that unreasonable for Emma.
The three of them moved up to a grassy clearing and Emma and Charles spread themselves out in the sun to dry. Erik formally introduced Emma and Charles- as Count James DeLoncret- and the three of them made idle but pleasant conversation.
"Forgive my asking Emma, but if you have no title, how did you obtain the education and the resources to become the most famous painter in all of Europe?" Charles asked, careful to keep his tone light.
"I am the best at what I do, and I have been very fortunate when it comes to being given the credit I deserve. And I am so much more than just a painter, sugar. I am an inventor, scientist, philosopher, engineer, mortician..."
Erik laughed. "Can't you pick? Why spread your effort so thin across so many pursuits?"
Emma propped herself on one arm. "When you are king one day, will you be a general or a diplomat? A husband or a father? A strong leader or a compassionate one?"
"Well that's hardly fair, some of those go hand in hand."
"He may even learn from one how to be better at another," Charles chimed in.
"Precisely." Emma beamed. "And if you can find valuable wisdom comparing two adjacent subjects that everyone uses to learn from one to another, imagine the things you can discover by comparing topics no one has ever thought to contrast."
Charles smiled with understanding as Emma went on.
"The human mind is a brilliant mechanism with so many facets, it's a pity that so many try to flatten themselves out. The world around us is not accurately described when you
divorce thought from feeling any more than when you divorce science from art."
"Very idealistic words for someone who is known primarily for their art. " Erik remarks.
"Hardly her fault; people do everything they can to define and confine you. The unknown makes most uncomfortable. It's why we like to hear what we already know, even though it limits us. Look at what Emma has been able to accomplish by disregarding that!
"Will you be the kind of King who listens only to advisers who reinforce your decisions or will you seek those who can teach you things you don't yet know? Because monarch after monarch preferring to never be contradicted is why people like Emma don't bother with court life."
"I didn't realize Sir Thomas More would be joining us today," Emma teased.
"And is that why I've never seen you at court, Count DeLoncret?" Erik challenged.
Charles side stepped the question. "Do you yourself not feel constricted by your role as a prince? Do you not have moments where you long for an identity beyond that? Or do you believe that's all there is to yourself?"
"Of course I see myself as more than that! 'Prince' is just a title."
"Then let yourself be more than that outwardly too! What are your interests, your passions outside of your obligations?"
Erik pondered the thought lightheartedly. "I like tennis. I'm quite fond of reading- poetry. I don't see how those could help me be a better king, besides maybe exemplifying the morals found in my favorite poems."
"You could share your passions with the people." Emma suggested.
Erik laughed. "I don't think anyone would take me seriously as a king if I took up reading to the public."
"Then teach them to read it themselves." Charles counters.
Erik laughed again. "You can't be serious. There's thousands upon thousands of people in Paris alone! And why bother teaching peasants and serfs how to read, their role in society hardly involves any philosophical prowess."
Emma gave a low whistle and rolled to lay on her stomach, her arms folded above her head to lay on.
Charles blinked incredulously.
"What?" Erik asked.
"So you may be more than a prince, and Emma may be more than a painter, but a peasant is not afforded the same humanity?"
Erik thought for a moment. "I'd never thought about it as a matter of humanity. But even if it was, isn't that the way of nobility? To garner more respect than the common man, and to pass down the mantle of responsibility for the betterment of society?"
"Just not the betterment of the peasantry." Charles remarked dryly.
"I-" Erik found he had nothing to say, and fell silent.
"Your whole legacy will be defined by the responsibility of making decisions on behalf of an entire nation; not just the nobles of our land."
"Do you teach your servants how to read?"
"As a matter of fact, I've personally seen to it that everyone in my House can read, and even write a little." Charles had certainly never told Kurt as well, but it made running the market stall and the house easier.
Erik tilted his head and studied Charles' face. "I did not know there were nobles who cared so much about their staff."
Charles laughed bitterly "You've seen me personally harass one of the palace coachmen when Logan was almost shipped off to the colonies. Your- our servants- spend their lives making us more comfortable. And yes we have a lot of responsibilities and work very hard, but so do they. Who comforts them?"
The trio fell silent. Emma began to dose off.
"Forgive me, your majesty. It is not my place to tell you how to conduct yourself."
"Don't be sorry. I would hate to become the kind of king who only listens to advisers unwilling to challenge him." Erik smiles earnestly at Charles.
Charles blushes, but smiles back.