“You shouldn’t be so far from the palace alone; Nico would be most upset. It’s getting dark. So many things to be afraid of,” Henri scolded.
I looked up sharply, wondering if that was some sort of warning.
“I had nothing to fear with my rescuer here to protect me.” I smiled at Conrad.
Out of the corner of my eye I caught a frenzied look pass across Henri’s face. “Well, all the same,” he said, reaching his arm out to me. “Let’s be on our way back.”
Conrad lifted me onto the back of the Comte’s horse.
“I trust you can find your way back on your own,” Henri said to Conrad.
“Ja. Thank you.”
“No. Thank you for returning our precious Princess to us. We are indebted to you and your family. I know Maria suggested you join us again for dinner, but I told her you couldn’t. I’m sure you’ll want to journey home to wed your own beloved bride—the Principessa di Borbone, isn’t it?”
I saw a moment of annoyance flicker in Conrad’s eyes and wondered why he hadn’t mentioned a fiancée, but that was ridiculous. Why would he tell a stranger something like that?
Henri went on as if enjoying the Graf’s discomfort.
“I know my Sapphira would love an invitation to the wedding. Wouldn’t you, darling?”
My Sapphira. What was with this guy?
Conrad straightened his shoulders and I noted the anger in the set of his jaw. Even from up on the horse, Conrad seemed massive.
“Please, tell her highness I accept her invitation to dinner and, to be clear, I’m no longer betrothed. You know perfectly well I have plans to speak with Maria and Nico in the morning. I shall court Sapphira.”
All at once my pulse raced and I bit my lip.
“We’ll see about that, now won’t we?” Henri said, driving his heels into the horse without even waiting for a response.
I couldn’t be sure if Henri was offended by Conrad’s tone, or if he was jealous. The man I’d overheard, and the snake that Sapphira feared, had wanted to force her into marriage. Did Henri want to marry Sapphira? I thought of jumping from the galloping horse. No, that was silly, I would be hurt and Conrad could be just as dangerous. After all, Conrad, too, was here to court the Princess. It seemed the Princess and I had more in common than I’d originally thought. We both attracted unwanted marriage proposals.
THIRTEEN
“G
ood morning, your Serene Highness. You’re dressed early this morning,” the silhouetted woman said, brightly.
I grunted and squinted against the harsh sunlight now streaming through the windows. “Oh, yes, morning, Anais, wasn’t it? I managed to pry my eyes open at the crack of dawn when Lisabetta and Chloe appeared to assemble me. I think I passed out afterward.”
She nodded as if fainting was a common occurrence post dress. Then again, I guess it probably was. I looked around the room for a clock, before turning back to the obscenely cheerful woman.
“What time is it?”
“Breakfast time, and it’s your favorite.” Anais waved a plate of food in front of me.
The sweet smell of honey caught my nose, and my stomach betrayed me with a groan.
Anais smiled and began to fold the quilts on the bed.
“Sit and eat.”
I did as she instructed—not like I had any other options. There wasn’t exactly a Starbucks on the corner. Taking the first dainty bite of pancake, my stomach grumbled for more and when she turned away, I quickly shoved a second and third bite into my mouth.
“I’d like,” I started to say and then realized I sounded like a cave man with my mouth full, swallowed and tried again. “I’d like to take a ride into town today. How would I go about that?”
Her eyes widened. “But you are not to leave your apartments, mademoiselle.”
I crossed my arms in front of my chest like the willful, spoiled brat they had called me.
“I apologize but the Comte’s instructions were that you remain here.”
“I’ll speak to Maria then.”
“I apologize, your Serene Highness. She’s barricaded herself inside her chambers once again,” she shook her head, “And Monsieur Lamentz is away from the palace for the night. I’ll tell him as soon as he returns tomorrow.” She glanced nervously at the door.
“Anais, wait,” I said, suddenly coming to a decision. “How long have you worked here?”
“Since you were a child, Your Serene Highness.”
“And how long have you known the Comte?”
Her eyebrows drew down in confusion. “Why do you ask, mademoiselle, if I may be so bold?” She gave me a confused half smile.
Inching closer to her I lowered my voice. “Have you ever heard me refer to anyone as the snake?”
“Why no.” Anais grimaced as she answered.
“Tell me the truth, Anais,” I asked. “Am I in danger?”
Anais looked over her shoulder.
“Please, tell me.”
“I can’t be certain, but you did seem… afraid… before the accident.”
“Do you know who I was afraid of?”
“I don’t. I’m sorry. Please don’t tell anyone I told you that. I have no proof. It’s just something that I suspect.”
She turned to go quickly and I heard a key turn in the door lock as she left.
She’d locked me in. I stood up and walked across the room, pulling the diary violently from the desk.
3 August 1857
I was forced to speak with the snake at the last dance, where he curiously asked about Mr. Ferris. I dare not think it has something to do with my birthday present. How would it even be possible for him to know of my father’s chamber, or the gift from my brother? Sometimes I wonder if he had something to do with my father’s untimely death. He must spy on us to know all he does. I suspect that his delusions of marrying me are cold and calculated. Something tells me his obsession has less to do with me and more to do with finding the sapphire. I’ve heard whispers that it can give one the ability to control time. Whatever he is plotting, I wish Charles would return and crush it.
Nausea filled my stomach like a balloon. I paced the massive room trying to think of a way out. Bastards. I drew the line at being held a prisoner even if the prison was a luxurious chamber fit for a princess.
A Princess. A damned Princess. The thought filled me with dread. Every little girl’s fantasy and my new nightmare. Welcome to the true Grimm styled fairytale, I thought throwing myself on the fireplace in a fit of panic. Something depressed under my touch and a small passage in the hearth opened up, nearly swallowing me whole.
Another secret tunnel about three feet wide. I inched my way inside the pitch-black space and rested against the wall, waiting for my eyes to adjust. It felt as if the walls were closing in on me.
Come on, Sophie, or Sapphira or whoever you are, I goaded myself. Embrace your adventurous side.
Grabbing the candle off the mantel I headed back in. Every few steps or so, there were holes or slats that allowed me to peer into the hall. I felt like a five-year-old spying on the big kids—it was enthralling. I peeked out the third one momentarily blinded as my eyes fought to adjust to the change in light. Feeling carefully for any steps or holes, I walked on until I hit a wall. No for real. An actual wall. There was only one way to go now—left. It was eerie pacing down the hidden corridor considering I didn’t have a bloody clue where it led, but then I heard a male voice speaking. Sure, it was muffled but still, I might learn something necessary to get me the hell out of here.
Henri? The voice grew louder and for a second I thought about turning around. Curiosity killed the cat after all. Then again, I wasn’t a cat—even if we did a share a similarity in attitude. This, according to Nick-the-dick. Hey! A new nickname for him. I couldn’t wait to share it with my best friend.
I was so busy amusing myself with childish names, I didn’t notice the trickle of water at my feet. Slippery when wet I thought as I went down.
; I awoke to a woman crying. “I’m sorry, Monsieur!”
Crap! I must have knocked myself unconscious—such a bonehead move. How long had I been out?
My hands were numb, but I crawled forward and followed the distressed voice. I noticed a pinhole of light piercing the darkness and peered through.
Ahh! Damn it! Turn down the brightness. I pulled back for a moment to stop the pinpricks of light from burning out my retinas. You’d think I’d learn.
This time I approached slowly and let my vision adjust before sticking my eyeball through the whole.
At first things were hazy but then I saw a maid’s uniform; the duster in her hand trembled.
“I’m sorry, Monsieur,” she mumbled. “Lisabetta had already sent word.”
Someone grabbed the maid roughly by the arms. That was totally something Nick-the-dick would do. Violent, macho assholes. I repositioned and tried to see their heads but the pinhole was too low and small.
“Salope,” the exasperated voice rang out, sending chills dancing down my spine. I couldn’t be sure, but it sounded very much like the man I’d spoken to when I’d first awoken. The man I’d thought was Nick. I turned to go, and then I distinctly heard a slap. I whipped my head back.
“Je suis désolée. I didn’t—” the petite girl, whom I suddenly recognized as Chloe, the curious chambermaid, was cut off.
I winced as the top of her uniform was ripped open.
He pushed her slightly. A large piece of furniture now blocked even more of my view.
“What have I told you?” he bellowed.
A whimper emerged as Chloe fell to the floor.
I dug my fingernails into my palms as I waited. Listening and watching as the man clumsily unfastened his pants. They were close, so close, they would definitely hear me if I screamed for the guards. I felt helpless to save this girl.
I instinctively pressed my thighs tight together. This explained why Chloe seemed so nervous, asking so many questions. Was she forced to spy for this beast? Unable to watch, I stumbled backward, colliding with the wall in another act of blindness.
How do I get out of here? The light from the hallway was dim, and the gloomy darkness made it hard to judge distance. The wall rounded into a curve at the end of the corridor; I bumped into it, let out a yelp, and raced down the hall in the direction I’d come from.
The bedroom was empty when I returned so I sat shivering on the stone floor, clutching the diary between my knees. Unsure of what to do next, I skimmed through the previous ten entries, leaving a dirt smudge on the last one, before closing it in defeat.
Rising to my feet, I noticed the scratch on my hand and debris that stuck to me. This was like a bad Halloween party—cobwebs and all. Not to mention, things hurt from falling, and I likely would never be warm again. God, I sound like a whiner. What would Gigi do?
Hide the evidence! Couldn’t have anyone finding out about my wandering. Feeling filthy both inside and out, more from the scene I’d just witnessed than from the cobwebs, I headed for the bathroom where I caught sight of myself in the mirror. Damn girl! You look filthy and not in a good way.
There was dirt on my face. Oh, and those golden ringlets. As if I needed that reminder right now. How was any of this possible? My mind was still puzzling my chameleon appearance when I had yet another visitor. Where was I? The drop-in center for lonely and abused women. I swore under my breath—at least it wasn’t Chloe.
Lisabetta made herself busy dabbing at the dirty spots on my dress, but said nothing although the look she gave me said it all.
Yeah, yeah, I know. Laundry’s no easy task.
Still, I felt guilty for my careless wandering. Mind you, the fact that she said nothing made me wonder how often the Princess used those passageways.
Once she left, I checked the door again. Unlocked. God bless Lizzy! I was getting the hell out of there, but first I pulled the diary back out and flipped the page. I needed a little more intel on the man referred to as the snake. Previously, the writing had been neat and circular, rounded and upright, as though written with care but the last entry was fluid and scribbled, as if written hastily. Something upsetting must have happened. Holy jeepers, I could relate to the feeling. The entry was dated four days later: Mother refuses to listen, dismissing my overactive imaginations. I am eighteen and she regards me as if I were a silly child. I will send Francois to Rochus in the village to obtain the potion.
The chill of the book’s words churned in my belly. I needed to find this man—but where to look? I double-checked the entry—the village. Gee! Let’s not get to specific or anything. Now, to figure out the 19th century equivalent to a taxi.
I’d just returned the diary to its hidey hole when Anais appeared, tray of tea and biscuits in hand. Hadn’t I just finished breakfast not that long ago? This reeked of espionage.
I walked to the balcony door, forming a plan. Spinning on my heels, I faced Anais with a sudden idea.
“Hey, servant girl?”
Anais gave me a strange look. Hmm. How did royalty address their servants? I didn’t think it was by name but maybe I was wrong.
“I mean Anais. Sorry!”
She gave me an even stranger look. Hot damn! You’d think after all the classes I’d taken that I would know more about history. I cleared my throat. Take three. “I believe the Graf of Württemberg is joining us for dinner again tonight. Would it be possible to speak to him before then?”
“Je suis désolé,” she said something in French that started with what I was pretty sure meant I’m sorry.
“Can you repeat that?”
“Mademoiselle, the Graf has returned to Württemberg.”
Great. Well, just one date with me was clearly enough to send him running back to his fiancé.
Anais gave me a look I recognized. It was one most people gave me when they found out my parents were dead—pity.
“He received an urgent telegram from his family this morning.”
Sure he did. Now, who would help me?
“I fear I have more bad news. Monsieur Lamentz has also sent word that he must extend his trip, so he’ll not be returning to the palace for dinner tonight either. My apologies, Mademoiselle. Perhaps you would like me to send a message to one of your friends that you will join them? Lady Lacey’s sent several invitations while you’ve been incapacitated.”
This was a new twist. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to leave?” The words slipped out before I had time to really think about what I was saying.
Anais pursed her lips, letting out a muffled noise. “Oui. Forgive me. I spoke out of turn. I just thought… it seemed like you were feeling better.”
I quickly recovered. “I am. I am feeling better. That was a very good idea. I’d like some fresh air. I’ll start with a ride into the village.”
“Mademoiselle, but why would you go there?”
“Anais, where is the Comte?” I said quietly. Should I try to convince Anais of my true identity?
Her eyes dropped to her shoes. “He is out. I really don’t have the authority to—”
I decided a change of tactics might be necessary and mustered up my haughtiest tone.
“Please don’t argue with me. Make the arrangements, or send word to my brother that I’m a prisoner in my own home.”
Her eyes widened and then lowered as she crossed the floor.
“I’ll just do your hair then,” she said, going to work.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she braided and pinned gems in my locks. Pangs of guilt gnawed at me for putting her through this, but I needed answers.
“I’ll be back to escort you as soon as the arrangements are complete.”
Less than an hour later I was led outside. If I’d had any lingering doubts about the year, they were cast aside as the footman helped me into the dazzling blue-and-silver carriage. The scenery was beautiful, and momentarily distracted me from my situation; unfortunately, my nerves flared back up as we pulled into the village and I asked the footman to
wait while I browsed the market.
“Of course, Mademoiselle,” he responded.
I paused before walking away. Something about that voice sounded familiar.
After receiving puzzled looks from three different people I grew pensive. Perhaps people recognized me as the Princess. What had I been thinking? Like there was going to be a giant sign that flashed above Rochus’ house. Returning to the carriage defeated, I overheard a man call to the footman.
“Enzo.”
Feeling the hair on the back of my neck stand up, I took two steps back and paused. That name was unmistakable. I recognized it from the conversation I’d overheard. He’d been the one following Sapphira before I showed up. So, Enzo was the footman.
If I returned to the castle now, Enzo would out me.
Feeling watched, I glanced over my shoulder.
No one was there—just an apothecary store. What were the chances that it belonged to Rochus?
I was about to check it out when the door of an adorable Swiss-style cottage next to it opened.
“Prinţesă, what are you doing here?”
I walked toward him and he bustled me through the doorway and inside the cottage. “It’s dangerous for you to be seen here.”
The man with the beard from the party.
“We need to talk.” I wrung my hands nervously. “I can’t believe I found you.”
“Ce dracu,” he mumbled to himself, fast and low in a strong Balto-Slavic accent, herding me over to a bookcase on the far side of the room.
“Where are we going?” I demanded, tugging my arm back out of his grasp.
He shrugged and lifted a book and then pushed on the case. It moved to reveal a hidden set of stairs.
“You know to send Francois! I don’t know what possesses you sometimes, Your Highness.”
I preceded him down the first couple of stairs and waited for him to close the bookcase behind us. We entered into a candlelit basement with an arcade of pillars and ribbed vaults holding up a low roof. My neck turned sharply and my eyes rolled over every inch of the lair, taking in the books, pots and corked bottles labeled in Latin and stacked on shelves that went all the way to the ceiling. One particular book protruded from a shelf, or perhaps the gleam of the fire reflecting on it caught my attention; either way, when my eyes lit upon it, Rochus moved to stand between me and the book. I bumped into a table, knocking over a bottle that shattered on the stone floor.
Cursed be the Crown (Cruel Fortunes Book 1) Page 8