Free The Princess and the Captain by Anne-Laure Bondoux

and lower the mouths of their musketoons. Then, with velvet tread, he approached the royal couple.
    â€˜We shall long mourn our beloved Princess,’ he murmured. ‘Galnicia has lost a lady of great distinction.’
    The rules of protocol that had weighed so heavily on the relationship between Malva and her parents were now shattered. For the first time in their lives, the Coronador and the Coronada let their feelings overwhelm them. They were prostrated by grief.
    Horribly embarrassed, the soldiers left. No sooner were they out of the Citadel than the news was flying all around town: the Princess, sole heir to the throne of Galnicia, was lost for ever in the waters of the Maltic Ocean.
    A leaden silence enveloped the Citadel for several days. The Coronador shut himself up in his own rooms, and the Coronada would not leave Malva’s. Neither of them wished to see anyone except the Archont, the only man authorised to visit them, as more or less a member of the family. He could be seen pacing the silent corridors and galleries with a frown on his brow, carrying steaming bowls of decoctions to cure headaches and watching everything like a hawk.
    Baffled by the situation, the servants, the soldiers, the Holy Diafrons and the ministers began applying to the Archont directly for instructions as a last resort. At first he promised to take their questions to the Coronador and bring back the answers. But as the Coronador was no longer capable of anything, the Archont had to act in his name. He therefore issued his first edicts:
    Edict 1
– Galnicia was entering a period of mourning of uncertain duration. The frontiers of the country were closed.
    Edict 2
– The precepts of Tranquillity and Harmony were suspended until further notice. No more marriages or funerals could be celebrated, since Malva had not been able to marry and, in the absence of a body, could not be buried either.
    Edict 3
– The only authorised ceremonies were those held to preserve the memory of the Princess.
    The Archont had the portrait painted of Malva on her fourteenth birthday hung in the Hall of Delicacies at the heart of the Citadel, with the dress that had been found in the sea beside it. All Galnicians were invited to come and leave votive offerings there.
    This had all happened very quickly. In less than two weeks the country, which had seemed so firmly established and so serene, had been rocked to its foundations. It was as if, when she fled, Malva had taken with her the pillar on which the whole of Galnicia rested.
    While the first edicts were being put up on the town walls, old Captain Hannibal’s body was slowly decomposing in the McBott house. It gave off a dreadful smell. Plucking up all her courage, Berthilde opened the chest in which her master had left his fortune.
    She knew that no law could resist the allure of gold. She took out a green velvet purse and went to see the Holy Diafron.
    Night was falling when Orpheus heard a knock on his door. He hadn’t spoken to anyone since the morning when Berthilde brought him news of his father’s death. As he hated wet weather, and the rain put him in a bad temper, he hadn’t ventured out of doors. He hadn’t even gone up to spy on the washerwomen from his bedroom window, guessing only too accurately that news from the outside worldwould do nothing to improve his mood. He had spent his time dwelling on his grievances, and wondering what he was going to do with the rest of his life now that he knew he was perfectly healthy.
    He approached the door with suspicion. After a moment’s hesitation he opened it, to find himself face to face with the lad who had already brought him a message once before. The poor boy was shivering with cold in his wet rags, but he had the same mischievous look in his eyes.
    â€˜Still Orpheus, are you?’ the boy asked.
    Orpheus sneezed, hunched his shoulders and replied, ‘Does the message still cost a hundred