Pip took a deep breath as he walked into the huge reception room where guests were gathered  for Prince Bernard's birthday party. He almost immediately realised that he stood out as appearing to be a young woman without a chaperone. Every female there was with a man – either a husband, or a father, uncle, cousin, or brother. Quite a few people stared at him for this reason alone, while his name of Miss Raven LaMidnight had been dropped like a plain pebble into a jewelled sea of Princesses, Duchesses, Countesses, Baronesses, Ladies, and Honourables.

Pip found a quiet corner, and tried not to fiddle with his necklace or his flowers. Nobody spoke to him, and he feared that this was another of the prince's jokes – sending him to a party where he would soon be uncovered as a fraud. The room was filled with beautiful paintings and statues that Pip would have liked to see, but there were too many people milling about.

A footman was collecting people's glasses on an enormous gold salver, so it seemed as if everyone had finished their drinks. Pip didn't mind missing out on an aperitif, the drained glasses smelt like medicine bottles, but he was very thirsty.

"Your glass, miss?" a footman asked, not noticing that Pip's hands were empty.

"Sorry, I didn't have a drink."

An almost imperceptible look that said Pip was being a nuisance came over his face as the footman said, "Would you care for an aperitif now, miss?"

"Oh, no thank you," Pip said. "Can I ... could I trouble you for a glass of water, though?"

The look suggesting Pip was a nuisance became more perceptible. "Of course, miss. It's no trouble at all." The set of his shoulders as he walked away suggested it was a great deal of trouble indeed.

Pip didn't expect to ever see him again, but the footman soon returned with a small glass of water on the gold salver. It was tepid, but Pip sipped it slowly, grateful to have something in his hand. He didn't know what to with do with the glass when he finished, so he surreptitiously dropped it into a large china urn behind his back.

Another footman approached him, saying, "Your card, Miss LaMidnight."Pip took the heavy cream card from the salver he carried, wondering what it was. When he opened the card, it said HRH Bernard, Crown Prince of Lindensea. He was too scared to ask the footman what the card was for, so only thanked him and smiled. Perhaps everyone got one, as a memento.

A few minutes later, he saw Bernard walking through the crowd, taller than almost everyone, greeting people left and right, until he stood in front of Pip. He looked resplendent in his dark suit, although his hair was already beginning to look untidy.

Pip gave another little curtsy, and the prince kissed his hand as before. Pip thought Bernard seemed more at ease now, carrying himself with greater confidence. He thought perhaps it was from being in his own home, surrounded by well-wishers, or even a drink Bernard might have had  earlier. He never considered that the relief and pleasure of knowing Pip had come to the party might have made the difference.

"I have received a card which says I am to escort you in to dinner, Miss LaMidnight," Bernard said with a little smile.

"I thought I was Raven," Pip said, still too nervous to smile back.

"In private. In public, we must be Miss and Sir," said Bernard, rather sadly.

"Sir, did you arrange it so that you would be my dinner partner?" asked Pip, giving a tiny smile at last.

"Oh no, miss. Princes don't arrange their own birthday parties," said Bernard. "I may, however, have said a word to my sister, who is the hostess."

"Remind me to thank her, sir," said Pip, his smile growing broader.

"Delightful as it is to chat to you, Miss LaMidnight, I think I had better escort you to dinner," said Bernard, offering his arm. "Nobody can go in until I do, and they are probably getting restless and hungry."

Pip linked his slim bare arm through Bernard's strong jacketed one, and together they were the first people through the vast doors of the Banqueting Hall. The sumptuous pale green room had Greek columns rising from the parquet floor, while crystal chandeliers dropped from the painted ceiling. Dozens of little tables were set out, decorated with candles and vases of red peonies.

Bernard walked around the room so that he could greet people, and so Pip could see all the decorations. When they got to their table, which was at the front of the room on a little dais, it turned out to be for the royal family and their guests.

"May I present, Miss Raven LaMidnight," Bernard said, as he pulled a chair out for Pip. "Miss LaMidnight, my father King Peter, my sister Princess Alice, her betrothed, Prince Hugo of Castile, and our cousin, Princess Dorothea of Bjarma."

"Your Majesties," said Pip, not knowing if this was the right thing to say, and dropping yet another curtsy. He was getting better at them now.

Prince Hugo stood up in a formal manner, and bowed his head as Pip sat down. He was an exceptionally handsome man with a lithe figure, dark hair and romantic black eyes. He was at least four inches shorter than Princess Alice.

"I hope you will excuse me standing, my dear," said King Peter. "My foot, or lack thereof, frequently troubles me."

"Of course, Your Majesty," said Pip, as Bernard slipped into the seat next to him.

"Miss LaMidnight, I believe I remember you from the entertainment the other evening," said Princess Alice. "You're a simply marvellous rider."

"Thank you, ma'am," said Pip, only Alice said to call her by her first name, and Pip reciprocated.

"What, there is a circus rider sitting at the royal table?" asked Prince Hugo in disbelief, wondering if some subtle nuance of the local language had escaped him.

"My late father, King Otto, frequently had circus performers sitting at his own table," said Princess Dorothea proudly. "In Bjarma, we honour those with knowledge, intelligence, and talent, not wealth and noble blood only."

"And very wise to do so," said King Peter.

Pip shot Dorothea a grateful look. Now that he could see her more closely, the princess had a certain womanly ripeness to her trim figure and a beautiful complexion. When she removed her spectacles to examine the menu, her eyes were revealed as large, limpid, and a deep emerald green. Pip didn't think she was nearly as plain as Brigid and Sunniva had said.

Bernard offered Pip a glass of champagne, but he said he had never drunk alcohol before, and didn't know if he liked it. He didn't care to say his father had rather put him off drinking.

"You shouldn't have your first drink at a party," said Bernard. "We've got lots of different things to choose from, so don't be embarrassed. Father doesn't drink now. He says if he once started drinking to dull the pain caused by his foot, he would never be able to stop, so better to never start."

Pip looked over at King Peter, who was talking to Dorothea about Russian literature with every sign of deep interest, and little indication that he had to deal with almost constant pain.

"Your father is very strong," he said. "You must be proud of him."

"I am," said Bernard, "but sometimes it is difficult living in his shadow."

"You must find your own light to shine in," smiled Pip, and Bernard chuckled, calling a passing footman to fetch Pip a glass of elderflower lemonade.

**********************

Pip didn't expect to have any trouble with the banquet – he had set enough tables to know what all the forks and spoons were for, and the royal style was to place all the dishes on the table at once, so guests could help themselves to as much or at little as they wanted.

But in deference to Princess Dorothea, the palace was using what they called "Russian Service", which meant that everybody received an individual plate of food for each course, served either very hot or very cold. 

Pip thought this meant a lot of work for the servants, and realised why everyone had been working so hard and feeling the strain. He felt guilty – he was needed in the kitchen, and yet here he was, sitting down to dinner with the royal family!

There were so many courses, and each one required a different set of cutlery. Only Princess Dorothea seemed to really know what she was doing, and everyone at the table watched her carefully. Bernard sometimes gently corrected Pip by touching his hand when he made a mistake, which made his stomach flutter.

"I'm sorry if I make you nervous," Bernard whispered very quietly in his ear, which made Pip blush and drop his fork. He began to bend down and pick it up, but Bernard held his hand to restrain him, and gestured to a footman to bring Pip a clean fork.

Another compliment to Princess Dorothea was that many of the dishes were Russian, or Russian-inspired. The fish course was smoked salmon and caviar on little pancakes, the game course was pigeon breast cooked in breadcrumbs with thinly sliced potato chips, and one of the desserts was a burnt cream.

Princess Dorothea politely said of each dish, "Very good. It is different to how we would serve it in Bjarma, but very nice. Very fresh and original."

Pip was staggered at how many courses the nobility ate. Instead of eating one big plate of meat and vegetables, there were many little plates of different foods, interspersed with cleansing dishes that were meant to allow a rest between courses, such as cold watercress soup, basil sorbet, rocket salad, or cubes of fruit and cheese.

Pip couldn't understand how eating more food was meant to be a break from eating. He started picking at his food, worried that another plate would be along in a few minutes.

"You eat like a little bird," Bernard teased.

Pip did love the dessert courses. He had a sweet tooth, and when they had them at all, servants were given very plain puddings, such as a jam roll with custard, or a rice pudding. Here there were meringues, profiteroles, dainty cherry tarts, and most impossibly delicious of all, strawberry iced cream. The shock of the cold on his tongue, the sweet creamy fruit that literally melted in his mouth.

Princess Dorothea looked approvingly at her iced cream.

"Ah, a very good creamed ice. In Lindensea, you have the purest flavours. Everything tastes very much of itself. This is excellent."

Sunniva had said that Dorothea would cheer up in time, and she certainly seemed chirpy enough now. She had been talking happily with King Peter, didn't mind a circus rider sitting at the royal table, and was clearly loving her food.

Dorothea and Bernard had exchanged a few words, and although they seemed to get along well, Pip thought that it was really Lindensea itself that made the difference. Bernard barely seemed to need to do anything to please her. Dorothea still didn't smile, but perhaps, as Sunniva had said, that was because she had come from Russia.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

LINDENSEA LORE

For to make iced cream

Gather a goodly amount of fresh strawberries, beat them fine in a mortar and put to them six ounces of sugar and a pint of scalding cream. Work it through a fine sieve, put it into a tin that hath a close cover, and set it into a tub of ice broken small with a large quantity of salt put among it. When you see your cream grow thick around the edges, stir it and set it again until it all be frozen up. Then put on the lid and have ready another tub with ice and salt as before. Put your tin in the middle and lay your ice over it and under it. Let it stand four or five hours, and then dip your tin in warm water before you turn it out and serve it forth. This will make a very fine iced cream that will prove a cooling refreshment during the months of summer.

From The Lindensea Gentlewoman's Home Companion by Mirabelle Warden