Princess of the Midnight Ball (15 page)

Just then Rose came back.

“The king will see you now,” she said formally, her face a mask.

Shouldering his bag, Galen went up the curving stairs and joined them on the gallery. He bowed to the princesses assembled there and followed Rose into the room where her father waited. This was a large chamber, mostly filled by a long table and high-backed chairs. There were several men seated around the table, and at its head was the king. He had the deflated look of a plump man who has suddenly lost weight, and there were dark circles under his eyes.

“How is my wife’s garden?”

One of the councillors stirred at this. Two others turned and whispered to each other, one of them giving Galen a hard look, as though he thought Galen was wasting their time.

“It flourishes, Your Majesty,” Galen said, bowing. “The winter is growing bitter cold, but the snow is not deep. With God’s grace, and a gentle spring, we shall have a fine carpet of crocuses.”

The king barked a laugh. “God’s grace seems to have
abandoned us, son.” King Gregor looked Galen over. “You are the young man who has been … patrolling the gardens, are you not?”

“Yes, sire.” Galen saw the startled look on Rose’s face, and on the faces of several of the councillors, and guessed that the king had not told many people about Galen’s nighttime activities.

“Have you anything to report?”

“Only that the princesses are not leaving the palace, sire.” Galen blushed furiously as he said this, seeing the betrayed look in Rose’s eyes.

One of the councillors shook his head. “We already know that. The palace guard confirmed that months ago,” he said impatiently.

The king didn’t respond. His gaze flicked to Rose and the shawl she still clutched about her shoulders. “My daughter Rose says that you may be able to help us.”

“Yes, sire.” Galen ignored the derisive snorts from the whispering councillor, glancing over at Rose instead. Her brows were drawn together in a worried expression, and when she met his eyes she seemed to be pleading with him. He didn’t dare ask her what she was thinking, but plunged ahead. “I would like to try my hand at solving the mystery of the dancing slippers from within the palace. As the late princes have done.”

“If the princesses would simply stop being coy,” one of the whispering men said, his voice carrying purposefully, “we would have no need of interruption by under-gardeners.” His companion snickered.

Angry that this man should dare to speak about Rose in such a tone, Galen addressed him directly. “Do you really think that the princesses would risk their lives, their reputations, simply to play games? Sir?”

The man opened and closed his mouth like a landed trout, his eyes angry. Galen turned his back on him and faced the king again.

“Your Majesty, if you will grant me three nights, I swear that I will solve this riddle or die trying.”

“You’re certain to die trying,” one of the councillors said with a sneer. “Better men than you already have.”

Both the king and Galen pretended not to hear, while Galen saw Rose’s expression darken out of the corner of his eye. The king studied Galen, and Galen looked back calmly.

“What makes you think that you have an advantage over the young men who have already tried? It’s hardly an indication of intelligence or cunning, but they
were
all of royal birth. I do not mean to offend you, young man, but you were given permission to roam the gardens at night because you claimed to have some sort of advantage over my guard. And, well …” The king trailed off, spreading his hands.

“I’m sure that the princes were all brave young men,” Galen said, although having met some of them, he didn’t think that was true at all. “And I would not, of course, expect the same treatment or the reward offered. But I served many years in Your Majesty’s army. I fought in battles and was sent on scouting missions to spy on the Analousians. I have been working some months now in the Queen’s Garden and am very familiar
with the exterior of the palace and the grounds. And …” He hesitated, and then decided to be “coy,” as the councillors would say. “And I have a few other tricks up my sleeve.” He laid a finger alongside his nose and winked.

The councillors looked variously annoyed or derisive, but the king just looked thoughtful. “Very good,” he said, nodding. “Would you care to start tonight?”

“If it so pleases Your Majesty.”

“Indeed it does,” the king said. “We shall extend every courtesy to you, of course. It would not be fair, otherwise.”

“Your Majesty!” One of the king’s advisers rose to his feet, flabbergasted. “You can’t mean—”

“You shall join us for dinner,” the king said to Galen, talking over his councillor’s babble. “You shall have access to my daughters’ chambers tonight, chaperoned by their maids, of course.”

Galen bowed his head, “Of course.”

“And should you succeed …” The king pursed his lips. “Well. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Bowing, Galen murmured his thanks. “I shall do my best to help you, Your Majesty. And your noble daughters.”

“You’d better,” the king said, not unkindly. “Rose, take him to the housekeeper. He shall have a room here for the next few days. You might want to have a rest before this evening. It’s going to be a long night.” The king looked as if he were going to have a long night as well and rather wished he could take a nap right now.

“Thank you again, sire,” Galen said, and bowed his way out of the room. Rose followed.

“Are you mad?” Rose asked as soon as the door closed behind them. “You’re going to fail, and then you’re going to die!”

But Galen tapped the side of his nose again and winked, even though his heart was racing. It thrilled him that she was concerned for his safety, but he put that out of his head with an effort. He was not trying to take advantage of her or her father while they were under duress from the archbishop.

“You
are
mad!” She stalked down the corridor.

He fell into step beside her. “I think it best if I have a rest, as your father suggested, before dinner,” he said in a conversational tone. “If I am to go dancing with you tonight, I want to have all my strength.”

Galen’s reward for this sally was seeing Rose’s cheeks turn bright red.

“I do hope that you will save a waltz for me, Your Highness. I dearly love to waltz. Do you?”

“Not anymore,” she said curtly. They had arrived at a small door at the end of a long passageway. She raised one hand to knock and then turned to Galen again. In a low voice she said, “Galen, please reconsider. You are signing your own death warrant by volunteering for this.”

He took her raised hand between both of his and squeezed her fist. “I understand that. But I won’t let you continue to suffer, Rose.”

She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. Then she extracted her hand and knocked. A plump woman in a white apron answered it promptly: the housekeeper had been having a cup of tea in her private sitting room, from the look of things.

“This is the housekeeper, Frau Kramer,” Princess Rose said. “Frau Kramer, this young fool is going to try to find out our secret. Please show him to a room.” She hurried away, leaving Galen and the housekeeper staring after her.

“I see,” Frau Kramer said after a moment. She looked at Galen curiously. “Aren’t you the head gardener’s nephew?”

“Yes, goodfrau.”

“What in the world are you doing in this accursed place?” She shook her head sadly. “You haven’t a hope. No one does. They dragged that fancy Bretoner governess off kicking and screaming not four hours ago.”

“I know a few tricks,” Galen said distractedly. He was still looking down the passageway in the direction Rose had gone. She cared for him! She did!

“Tricks? Of what sort?” She gave him a suspicious look.

“I’m invisible,” he said, and then gave a phony laugh to make her think it was a joke.

She didn’t find it amusing.

Rose had been certain that her sisters would behave in a most embarrassing fashion at dinner, but she needn’t have worried. While several of them thought it desperately romantic that Galen was risking his life to save them, Anne’s arrest and their own impending investigation weighed too heavily on their hearts for them to do any teasing. And there was also the presence of Bishop Angier, the archbishop’s emissary, to add to the seriousness of the situation.

Even though this was supposed to be a private family dinner, Angier had included himself, sitting at the foot of the table like a dark cloud. Galen did not try to make conversation, but ate calmly and didn’t seem to notice Angier’s presence. Rose was relieved to see that Galen had excellent table manners: she hadn’t wanted him to embarrass himself in front of Jonquil and Daisy, who were both very critical of such things.

Finally the silence got to the bishop.

“Do you risk your immortal soul, young man?” Angier
had a rasping voice, and a look of malevolent glee contorted his face. He appeared delighted at the thought that Galen might be facing down damnation.

“No, Your Excellency,” Galen said. “I don’t believe so.”

“You have come into a house where sorcery is practiced. Does that not frighten you?” The bishop pursed his thick lips. He was a large man without a single hair on his head. Rose thought he looked like uncooked dough. “It should frighten any God-fearing man.”

“I believe that the princesses are innocent,” Galen said calmly. “And I am merely here to discover what ill fortune is plaguing them.”

Rose marveled at his self-control. She was shredding a roll into tiny bits and doing her best not to shout something rude at Bishop Angier.

Across the table from her, Galen went on. “And with Your Excellency’s watchful presence here, I didn’t think that my soul could be endangered.”

Galen caught Rose’s eye and smiled.

“Do you smile, sir?” Angier was indignant. “Smile in the face of the horrors that have gone on here?”

This wiped the amused expressions off everyone’s faces. Pansy started to cry, and Petunia dropped her glass and spilled lemonade all over the white tablecloth.

“Your Excellency!” King Gregor flushed red. “There is no need for such talk in front of my daughters! They are too young to understand—”

“They are not too young to perpetrate these atrocities,” the
bishop interrupted. Then he corrected himself quickly. “I mean, they are not too young to have been
influenced
by that governess’s terrible ways.”

Rose stiffened. She knew that poor Anne was being used as a scapegoat in this, but Angier made it obvious that his goal was to defame her family. She wished that he would leave Anne alone and confront her father like a man.

“With all respect, Your Excellency,” Galen said in a mild voice, “the only thing you
can
prove the princesses are guilty of is wearing out their shoes too often. None of the princes who have died in recent months met their fate on Westfalian soil. They perished in tragic yet normal accidents. That is, those who didn’t die at the hand of another prince.”

Poppy rapped on her glass with a knife to applaud Galen’s speech. Violet made an appreciative sound at the chiming of the silver on crystal, and began tapping her glass with a fork, her head cocked to one side. She hummed a little, trying to match the note. Iris, Lilac, and Orchid, with relieved expressions, all began tapping their glasses as well, trying to find a melody.

“Girls! Girls!” King Gregor looked shocked.

Rose and Lily exchanged glances. Such behavior was quite appallingly rude, but Rose could see that it was more a reaction to the stresses of the day than a lack of manners. She just shrugged at Lily, who smiled back faintly.

But it was all too much for Hyacinth. She had been stumbling about like a sleepwalker since Angier had arrived. And now the argument with the bishop and the chime of silverware
on crystal broke her. She began to sob loudly into her napkin. “Stop it, stop it!”

“Hyacinth!” Rose got to her feet.

“I wish we’d never been born,” she wailed. “I wish we’d lost the war, too!” She threw down her napkin and fled the room.

“Very interesting,” the bishop said in his shrewd voice, steepling his fingers under his chin. “I wonder what she meant by that.” His small, sharp eyes sought out Rose’s, and she shuddered.

Recovering quickly, she made a polite curtsy to her father and then to the bishop. “May I be excused? I don’t think Hyacinth should be alone.”

“I would also like to go to her,” Lily said, rising to her feet. The rest of the girls rose as well, and Galen.

“And I should be keeping an eye on them,” he said, and bowed to the king and the bishop.

The king dismissed them and they all filed out. Galen took Rose’s arm as they went up the stairs to the sisters’ rooms. His arm was hard with muscle, and warm through the sleeve of his suit. Rose did her best not to clutch at him like she was drowning.

Inside their sitting room, Galen sat down in an armchair by the fire and took out the whatever it was he was knitting. Hyacinth was huddled in the window seat, weeping piteously. Rose went to her and sat down, pulling Hya into her arms while the other girls clustered around them, making sympathetic noises.