A Dream of Ebony and White: A Retelling of Snow White (Beyond the Four Kingdoms Book 4)

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A Dream of Ebony and White: A Retelling of Snow White (Beyond the Four Kingdoms Book 4) Page 12

by Melanie Cellier


  I settled down on the single pillow, trying not to think about how often the cleaning was done. What if it was only every second day? Or even every third day? I couldn’t wait in this tiny room for days.

  The thoughts so consumed me that the soft sound of a door made me sit bolt upright, my indrawn breath quickly stifled. What was someone doing here in the middle of the night?

  I scrambled upright as silently as I could and hurried over to the door. I pressed my ear against it but could hear no further sounds. After chewing my lip anxiously for a full minute, I decided to risk easing the door slightly open.

  I held my breath as I did so, resisting the urge to squeeze my eyes shut as well. Much better to keep them open and alert. No startled exclamation greeted the small movement, so I risked opening it slightly further. Still no response.

  With the door ajar, I could hear faint sounds of indiscernible movement. Someone was definitely in the room, but what were they doing? They didn’t appear to have brought a light with them, or to have lit any of the candles that littered the surfaces. Slowly, inch by inch, I leaned my head through the narrow space and peered quickly around the room.

  This time I didn’t manage to swallow my gasp quickly enough. The maid, duster in hand, looked up and met my eyes. For a long, silent moment, we both remained frozen, me with only my head in the room, and her with her hand still raised.

  “Your…Your Highness!” Gertie found her voice first.

  I whisked the rest of myself into the room and pressed a finger against my lips. “Shhh!”

  She closed her mouth and blinked at me while I stood there awkwardly and tried to think of something to say. Nothing brilliant came to mind.

  “You’re back!” She whispered the words this time, and I stepped closer to hear her more clearly.

  “Not officially. But I need some information.”

  “Information?” Gertie lowered her duster at last and hurried over toward me. “We thought you were…well, we didn’t know what to think!”

  I shrugged. She looked truly concerned, and I hated to think that the servants might have been worrying for me. But I was hardly going to apologize for running, given the circumstances. Circumstances I hardly intended to explain now.

  “My stepmother can’t know I’m here,” I settled on in the end, watching her closely to see her reaction to this announcement.

  She nodded vigorously, her eyes wide. “No, indeed, Your Highness. She’s been in a towering bad mood ever since you disappeared. We hoped that must mean…”

  Interesting. So the servants, at least, seemed to know that Alida wished me harm. And they seemed to care, too. Some of them, anyway. I had always got on well enough with my own maids, so I was fairly sure they would not wish to see me dead. The others, though—did they still hold out hope that I might claim the throne and free the kingdom from its current queen?

  I eyed Gertie more closely. She looked pale and tired, although how much of that was the low moonlight I couldn’t be sure.

  “What are you doing dusting in the middle of the night, Gertie?”

  She jumped slightly and flushed. “Well…to be honest, Your Highness, this isn’t exactly one of my official duties. But it was my turn.”

  “Your turn?” I frowned in confusion.

  She nodded. “We all got assigned to different duties after you left, but we take turns to come and keep your room in order. In case you return…” She trailed off and eyed me uncomfortably, as if she’d just realized that I had indeed returned but didn’t have much use for a clean room.

  I softened, touched by her words. “I hope you’re not risking getting into some sort of trouble by being here.” I gestured at the clean room. “Is that why you’re here in the middle of the night?”

  “What? Oh. No. I mean, we haven’t exactly been announcing our efforts to anyone, but then no one else comes here to see us.” She grimaced. “I just couldn’t get away sooner.”

  I stared at her. “But it’s so late! You can’t possibly have been working until now.”

  “Her Majesty has seen fit to increase our workload. Seeing as how she dismissed a number of the staff and hasn’t been bothered to replace them.”

  “Dismissed staff? Whatever for?”

  Her brows drew together, and a shadow crossed her eyes. “Failure to adequately perform their duties, I believe was the official reason. It’s most of the older ones who are gone.” She looked at me significantly. “The ones most loyal to your father.”

  My hands balled into fists as I thought of all the familiar faces that must be missing. “And let me guess. She sent them away without their pensions.”

  Gertie nodded, and I swung around, striding over to the window before quickly striding back again. How convenient for the queen to save herself all that money.

  Gertie watched me, a worried crease between her eyes. “We’ve all been keeping our heads down, Your Highness. As I’m sure you can understand.”

  I nodded, my eyes racing around my clean room. And yet they had continued to come here in a silent vigil for me.

  “I’m surprised more of the servants haven’t chosen to leave if you’re being worked so hard,” I said. Although the prospect of losing the pension owed to them would keep the older ones tied to their positions, I imagined.

  Gertie gripped both hands around the stem of her duster. “We aren’t permitted to leave, Your Highness. Not unless we’re sent away with a black mark against our name and little chance for other work.”

  “Not permitted to leave?” I stared at her. “You aren’t slaves!”

  “Well, no, we still get our wages, I suppose.” Her words made anger explode inside me. “But Her Majesty has declared that to leave her service is to show disloyalty to the crown. And we all have families. We can’t risk having them branded as traitorous, or the whole family would be out of work. No one would dare employ us.”

  I shook my head. How had things devolved so drastically in the few short weeks I had been gone? My insides writhed uncomfortably as I wondered if it was my escape that had prompted Alida’s harsh actions. If her plan for me had succeeded, she would have had no need to cull those most loyal to my family—and then threaten the others so they couldn’t leave now that their workload had increased.

  I took a deep breath and pushed my inner turmoil aside. Alida had left me with no other choice—I couldn’t have remained and allowed her to kill me. But it was very clear I couldn’t risk staying in the castle any longer than absolutely necessary. Not with all of my father’s old servants gone and the rest in a state of tension and overwork. Who knew how they would react if they saw me?

  “I’m looking for Alexander. Have you seen him? Do you know where he is?”

  “Alexander?” Gertie frowned. “I don’t think I’ve seen him in weeks. But then the maids’ quarters are nowhere near those of the huntsmen. And none of us have time to be sociable in the evenings these days. All the common rooms are deserted outside of meal times.”

  I sighed and ran a hand through my tangled hair. I had hoped she might have heard a rumor of him at least. Did that mean nothing had happened to him after all? Had I overreacted by rushing back here?

  But no. He had said he would be back in two weeks, and it was closer to four now. I tried to think of who else I might seek out for information. I didn’t like to ask Gertie to go searching given everything she’d told me.

  She must have seen the concern on my face because she opened her mouth, only to close it quickly again.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Well, I just thought…that is, I wondered…” She twirled her duster nervously.

  “Yes?” I tried to make my voice as gentle as I could.

  “You should ask your grandfather,” she said in a sudden rush.

  Chapter 14

  “My grandfather?” I stared at her blankly. Of course she couldn’t mean my father’s father, the old king, who had been dead for many years. But then she must mean…

  “The
duke is still here? In the capital?”

  She nodded eagerly. “Yes, indeed, Your Highness. And if it’s information you need, he’s well-connected in the city despite having been gone for so long. He visits the castle sometimes, and Her Majesty is always in an awful rage afterward.” She smiled at me. “He kicked up a mighty fuss when you disappeared, you know. He keeps asking what Her Majesty is doing to find you and insisting his own men are involved in the search.”

  She seemed so sure I would be pleased at the news that I didn’t know what to say. And I wasn’t displeased, exactly. It was nice, even, to know that someone had pressed the issue of my sudden disappearance. But why him? And why did he suddenly care now after sixteen years during which he hadn’t so much as looked at me once?

  “Oh. Well, I suppose…” I managed at last, my words trailing away when I could think of nothing else to say.

  “He’s staying in his old townhouse,” she told me, still smiling. “You know, the large one at the top of Palace Way. It’s been empty for so many years that it’s rather strange to see hustle and bustle all around it again.”

  “I see…well, thank you, Gertie.” I tried to pull myself together. “It might be best if you don’t tell anyone that you saw me here. Even the other maids. For both our sakes’.”

  She nodded so hard I had no doubt of her agreement. And the fear lurking at the back of her eyes reminded me that she had something to lose as well.

  “I’ll just be going, then.” I backed toward the open door behind me. “Thank you for…” I waved my hand vaguely around us. “Everything.”

  She dipped into a very belated curtsy. “Of course, Your Highness. And I hope we’ll see you again soon.” The way she peeped up at me, hope having replaced the lurking fear, told me she didn’t mean in a situation like this. She would be happy to see me storm the front gates.

  If only I were capable of such a thing.

  My head whirled as I climbed back down the vines, my thoughts moving too fast to leave any room for fear. Before I knew it, I was on the ground and crawling back through the drain. The city wall was in much worse repair than the castle one, and I would have better luck slipping into the city from the forest than from the castle.

  I had to dodge another patrol just outside the castle wall, but I found an unmanned and unlatched side gate into the city without trouble. Whatever increased security concerns gripped Alida, they were firmly centered on the castle.

  I stopped to pull on my cloak, although the night was a warm one, raising the hood over my head. Keeping my face down, I slipped through the streets, making my way toward the large, central Palace Way. The broad road led from the main entrance of the city straight through to the castle gates, and the upper section was lined with mansions—town homes for the nobility when they visited court from their main estates.

  Like Gertie, I found the sight of burning lanterns at the door of the duke of Lestern’s mansion startlingly incongruous. It had been dark as long as I was alive.

  I lurked in the shadows on the other side of the street, trying to decide on my next move. Nothing in me felt comfortable at the idea of approaching my grandfather. But I also had nowhere else to go and no one else to turn to.

  Alexander’s safety meant more than my feelings of past rejection or present uncertainty. And while I had no reason to suppose the duke loyal to me, he had certainly shown himself lacking in loyalty to my stepmother. Perhaps while he did not care for me personally, he still wished to see his daughter’s blood on the throne. Whatever his reasoning, I felt fairly certain I could trust him with the knowledge of my presence in the capital. Of course, whether or not he would actually help me was another question.

  Except now that I stood here, I realized I had a more immediate problem than his willingness to act on my behalf. How was I to approach him in the first place? I could hardly knock on his front door and announce myself as the missing princess. And in the middle of the night, no less.

  I pondered the problem for some time with no brilliant ideas coming to me. Much of the night had now passed, and I still hadn’t slept at all. My eyelids kept drooping, only to jerk open again at some unfamiliar city sound. Daylight might bring more of an opportunity for slipping into the house and finding the duke, but it would also bring a much higher likelihood of someone else seeing and recognizing me before I managed to accomplish it.

  I shifted my weight from foot to foot, trying to ease the discomfort in my muscles as I waited and unsuccessfully tried to come up with a solution. If only Alexander were here. He would know what to do. His expertise might lie in the forest, but he had never shown himself at a loss that I could remember. He had always found a way to rescue us from the childhood scrapes we had gotten ourselves into.

  As I agonized, more time passed, and I noticed the darkness around me lightening. I straightened. One way or another, I couldn’t stay here much longer.

  But before true dawn arrived, movement across the street made me straighten and strain to see through the gloom. A figure appeared from a side door in the ducal mansion. He left it propped open behind him as he shook out a small object I couldn’t discern in the darkness. But despite the lack of detail, the figure was too familiar for me to mistake. What was the castle steward doing at my grandfather’s home?

  But only a moment of reflection brought the obvious answer. One at least of the staff dismissed by my stepmother had found another position. The older man had been steward long before my birth, and I didn’t hesitate. My feet almost flew across the cobblestones between us, my momentum nearly sending me colliding into him as he turned back to the door.

  “Watch yourself, miss,” he said, as he steadied me. His calm tone managed to convey disapproval without being actually rude, and I almost laughed in my relief.

  “Bronson! It’s me!” I didn’t let go of my clutch on his arms, so I felt him stiffen.

  He stooped quickly to peer up under my hood.

  “Your Highness!” he breathed.

  I nodded wordlessly, and before I knew what was happening I had been whisked off the street and through the door into a passageway only slightly less dim than the outside.

  I nearly stumbled, and he steadied me again, taking a firm grip on my arm and almost dragging me through the quiet house. A flash of elegant furnishings and slightly faded draperies, and I found myself deposited in a small sitting room. As soon as the door closed behind us, Bronson released my arm and bowed deeply.

  “Your Highness.”

  “It’s good to see you, Bronson,” I said. “I heard about what happened up at the castle, and I can’t say how glad I am to see you here.”

  He looked up at me sharply. “At the castle, Your Highness? Don’t tell me you’ve been up there.”

  “Don’t worry,” I said with a smile. “I climbed in a window.”

  “Climbed in a window?” His eyes widened, and he looked like he wanted to reprimand me. But either my new status or our situation silenced him. “Well, you made the right decision coming here, Your Highness.”

  Seeing his familiar face and hearing him use my title gave me a courage I hadn’t expected. Despite all my fear and weakness, I had been raised royalty. I straightened my spine.

  “I’m here to see my grandfather.”

  “Of course.” He bowed again. “I will fetch him immediately.”

  The drawn curtains caught my attention from the corner of my eye, and I hesitated, remembering the early hour. But the thought was quickly followed by a reminder of my circumstances. Alexander’s face lurked behind my eyes. Some things were important enough to be woken for.

  “Thank you,” I said, and with a third bow, the steward slipped from the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

  I sank exhausted into a chair and put my hand over my eyes. I wasn’t ready for this meeting, and I wished desperately I could take the chance to sleep first.

  The sound of the doorknob turning came more quickly than I had expected, and I leaped to my feet, one hand flying use
lessly to my hair before falling again. I had spent two nights sleeping in the woods and one crawling through abandoned drains. It was altogether best if I didn’t think about my hair.

  The tall man who entered the room was familiar, although I had only seen him once before. He closed the door behind him before turning and meeting my eyes across the room. For a drawn out moment neither of us spoke or moved, and then he sank into a deep bow.

  “Your Majesty.”

  The address made me suck in a breath, fighting back tears. Only Alexander had ever called me that.

  I said nothing in reply, and he crossed the room, stopping several feet short of me. A brief look of uncertainty crossed his face—the expression out of place on his otherwise commanding features. Was it facing his granddaughter properly for the first time that put it there?

  His hand twitched, almost unconsciously, toward one of the chairs, and I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. It looked as if the truth were somewhat simpler. The great duke didn’t know how to conduct himself now that he was no longer the highest ranked person present. As host I could see he wished to offer me a seat, but as my subject, he was bound to follow my lead when it came to sitting or standing.

  After another awkward moment I took pity on us both and sank back into the chair I had just vacated. A brief lightening—almost a smile—crossed his features, and he took a seat facing me. But still the silence stretched between us. I didn’t know what to say to this stranger, who should have been nearly as dear to me as my father.

  “Blanche,” he said at last, and I stiffened. “I’m so glad that you…” His voice trailed off as he absorbed my expression. “I’m sorry. Your Majesty, I should have said.”

 

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