by Alyssa Moon
First things first, she thought. I’ll need a measuring tape. She dug through pile after pile, tossing fabric and thread here and there, but couldn’t find a single one. Delphine groaned. Now that she had a chance to think about it, the trip to the castle felt daunting. How could she make a dress for the princess if she couldn’t even take her measurements? Then Delphine began to realize that she had no idea what Princess Petits-Oiseaux was actually expecting of her. Could she even deliver to the princess’s standards? What were the standards of dressmaking for a princess? Delphine’s tail twitched nervously.
Taking a deep breath, she decided to distract herself by gathering other items from the piles that might be useful—a lacquer pin box, her lucky pair of scissors, a basket that seemed nice enough to carry everything to the castle. A measuring tape eventually turned up underneath the human thimble that she used as a hat stand.
Still feeling butterflies whirling in her stomach—and not the magical, embroidered kind she’d described to the mice babies earlier—Delphine left her workshop. On an impulse, she turned and climbed the steep flight of stairs inside the wall up to Cinderella’s tower room. She scurried to the ledge of the window and gazed at the giant castle’s elegant towers on the horizon. They glimmered in the evening starlight. This was what she’d always wanted, she reminded herself. A change in the doldrums of château life! A chance to sew something truly special! An adventure, if only for a day! She reached down with a tentative paw to be sure the invitation was still in her pocket. She could feel the shape of the envelope through the starchy fabric of her apron.
Besides, Delphine had dreamt of visiting the castle ever
since she could remember, and opportunities to travel there were few and far between. Delphine had practically given up hope that she would ever get the chance. And now, not only was she headed there, she was going to meet the princess!
Delphine took another deep breath to steady herself.
Magic may not be real, she thought, but tomorrow will be magical.
The next morning, a loud chirping broke the stillness. Delphine blinked drowsily to see her friends Cittine and Margeaux, two of the château sparrows, poking their heads through her window. The sky behind them was still dark.
“You said to wake you early!” trilled Margeaux.
“So here we are!” chimed in Cittine. They fluttered up to Cinderella’s tower window. Delphine watched them go, wishing for the thousandth time that she could fly. Seeing the world from high above . . . it would be incredible. If only she could ask them for a ride, but the code between animals would never permit that.
She scrambled into her nicest clothes, tucked a clean handkerchief into her apron pocket, and grabbed her basket of supplies. The envelope! She had almost forgotten it on her dressing table. Doubling back, she carefully tucked it into her pocket, then scurried down the stairs inside the wall. There was no time to waste if she was going to catch a ride on the vegetable farmer’s cart. In the human kitchen at the end of the passage ahead, she could already hear Cinderella singing softly.
The crunch of wheels on the gravel grabbed Delphine’s attention. She ran across the front parlor, praying that Lucifer was still asleep. There was no time to go through the circuitous corridors in the walls.
As soon as Delphine scampered outside, she looked around. There stood the vegetable farmer’s cart, the farmer climbing back aboard into his seat. She had gotten there just in time! Hiking up her skirts, she hurried across the gravel, leaping from one stone to the next. She could see the farmer picking up the reins and the dappled horse stepping in place gently. Delphine leapt into a flat-out dash across the remaining distance and scampered up the side of the cart just as it began to move. The jouncing of all four wheels over the uneven road jostled and tumbled her around the back of the cart. She waved at the château, picturing the mouse residents still tucked into their beds, until the cart turned and her home disappeared from sight.
It was official: Delphine was heading to the castle for the first time.
Now she just had to follow her mother’s instructions about how and where to switch conveyances. It’s a pity that humans never travel from Château Desjardins straight to the castle, she mused, watching the fields pass by and the sun begin to rise. The air was sweet with the fragrance of wheat being harvested, and bumblebees paused from time to time to rest on the cart as it bounced along the winding road.
Delphine disembarked at the crossroads where all the human drivers stopped to water their horses. Her mother had said she’d have to wait there for another cart to take her the rest of the way. Around her, little knots of mice stood gossiping, watching the coaches and carts being unloaded and refilled with both human and mouse parcels. Delivery mice darted to and fro with bags of goods slung across their shoulders. One had an ingenious sort of wheelbarrow with an extra-wide wheel that could surmount even the largest pebbles. The wheel was made from an empty thread spool, Delphine realized with admiration. A few gophers and voles skittered through the crowds, clearly running their own errands.
Delphine hung back, not sure whom to approach for information. Each animal seemed busier than the last. Then she spotted an elderly florist mouse named Clothilde that she knew from the Sunday markets along the country road by the château. She and her mother had been buying flowers from Clothilde ever since Delphine could remember. She felt certain that the mouse could help her figure out which transport to take.
Delphine approached and sat down beside Clothilde on a long bench made from a discarded human pitchfork handle. Other hopeful travelers perched on either side of them, all headed to their own destinations. The long grass behind the bench swayed gently in the morning breeze, bringing the smell of roasted acorns to Delphine’s nose. It seemed someone had decided to prepare an early snack while they waited, and Delphine wished she had had the forethought to have done the same.
“Bonjour, Madame Clothilde,” Delphine said, doing her best to act grown-up and at ease. She wrapped her tail demurely around her ankles under her petticoats.
Clothilde nodded at Delphine with a wink, her bright old eyes just visible beneath the brim of her wide wicker hat. She clasped a huge basket in her paws.
“Bonjour, my dear. I’ve never seen you at the crossroads. Where are you headed today? Off to a grand adventure?”
“I’m going to the castle.” Delphine tried to sound nonchalant, but she was starting to feel overwhelmed once more with all the uncertainty that lay before her. She smoothed down her whiskers.
Clothilde gently took Delphine’s paw. “The castle is a place of wonder,” she said. “Dreams can come true within those walls. I will never forget my first visit. And neither will you.” She leaned forward, casting her gaze across the group of human coaches and carts pulled up around the watering trough. “The baker is, I think, heading there. As is the chirurgeon. You’ll be able to ride with whichever is the next to leave.”
She glanced back at Delphine, another smile tugging at the corners of her eyes, and continued. “Enjoy every moment, curtsey to all the noblemice, and compliment Princess Petits-Oiseaux on her curlicue whisker. It rests on the leftmost side of her muzzle, and she is extremely proud of it. The other ladymice of the court often wear one whisker curled in imitation of hers.” Clothilde wrapped one of Delphine’s gray whiskers around her paw in jovial demonstration.
Delphine’s eyes grew wide. “Mouse whiskers can be curled?” She had never even considered this possibility.
Clothilde smiled. “All things are possible at the castle.”
Just then, the human baker clambered onto the seat of her cart, gathering her reins. The giant roan horse tossed its head in response.
“The baker’s cart it is!” said Clothilde, pointing. “Be quick, before it pulls away!”
“Thank you, Madame Clothilde!” Delphine grabbed up her basket, then turned and ran toward the rumbling cart.
Luckily, Delphine was fast. She dashed alongside the horse, squeaking a quick “Bonjour!
” as she passed. The horse cast its slow view downward and flared its nostrils in clear disinterest. Delphine reached the side of the cart and leapt nimbly onto a piece of trailing rope. Shinnying onto the back of the driver’s box, she squeezed herself in with the other animal passengers. The gruff old shrew next to her barely glanced her way before returning his gaze to the road winding beneath the cart.
Delphine leaned back to catch her breath, watching the Chanterelle River running past them. It cut through the middle of this little part of the kingdom and flowed out to sea. Perched atop the cart, she could see sunlight sparkling like jewels on the surface of the river.
The cart jostled over bridges, rocking the passengers, but Delphine didn’t mind. She could smell the fresh baguettes loaded in the back, and the sunshine warmed her.
They passed through Leyzizes, where her mother headed whenever Delphine needed new wire ends for needles and pins. They hurtled past a clear blue lake and through Chaumont so quickly that Delphine didn’t even have time to look for the famous lizard fiddlers who were said to play on top of the city square arbor. There was so much to see that it made Delphine’s head spin.
Then, after what seemed like forever, the cart began to climb upward. The incline grew steeper and steeper. She heard the horses whuffle and raised her eyes to see why. Her breath caught in her throat.
The castle—closer than she had ever been before.
It appeared tower by tower over the hilltop as the horses raced forward. Spires sprouted atop every roof and cornice, displaying flags with the royal crest of the human king. Panels of yellow and pink glass sparkled around the edges of windows, the latter matching the stones that capped the guardhouses of the outer wall. The turrets almost glowed; it seemed as if the clouds themselves were reaching down to reflect that golden light.
“We’re nearly there!” squealed Delphine, hugging herself. Her tail lashed excitedly, hitting the legs of the elderly shrew beside her.
He peered at her from beneath his brows. “I am aware, young lady,” he harrumphed. “And I would appreciate it if you and your tail could both remain in control of yourselves until we arrive.”
Delphine grabbed at her tail with both paws, fumbling to get it tucked back under her skirts. Her cheeks flamed. If that were to happen at court! she thought.
The cart slowed to a crawl as it passed over the moat and approached a side gate. Human guards waved the baker through, and she tipped her cap as she passed, nudging her horses through the narrow opening in the wall and into a short stone passage. More human guards approached the cart as they came to a stop, this time apparently to check the cargo.
Delphine stared in awe at what lay ahead. The passage led toward a massive interior courtyard ringed by stables. The sheer number of carts, coaches, humans, horses, chickens, and general bedlam contained in the open space ahead of her was enough to make Delphine light-headed.
“Everyone off!” piped a shrill voice, and a young mouse in a scarlet doublet came scurrying up the wheel and onto the cart. “Get into the entry hall, where it’s safe! You know where to go!”
The rest of the passengers apparently did. They had their satchels gathered and hanging from their travel twigs before Delphine had the chance to even pull her thoughts together.
The mouse ran over to her. “Off, off, before they lead the cart into the stable courtyard! Don’t want to be dismounting in there around all those horses’ hooves.” He gave Delphine a quick shove, and she scrambled over the edge and down the wheel to the flagstones.
The other passengers were disappearing through a narrow gate spanning the crack between two stones in the castle wall. Delphine followed. She emerged from the fissure into a hallway so large, she would have thought it was a human room if she hadn’t known better. Small animals ran madly in every direction, each seeming to be on a more important errand than the last. The vaulted stone ceiling echoed every sound back downward on itself, creating a cacophonous din. High on one wall, a sundial was cleverly mounted to catch the sun’s rays. It was just a few whisker-lengths from being noon. Delphine had no idea how long it would take to reach the princess’s quarters, but if the rest of the mouse portion of the castle was as vast as this room, it might just take her all day.
The mouse who had hurried Delphine into the chamber now turned to a large, swarthy vole in a velvet surcoat and announced, “Baker’s just pulled in.”
The vole scanned his sheaf of papers. “Team Tyrol, grain duty!” he hollered in no particular direction, and then turned back to his papers, scribbling furiously.
Delphine was suddenly buffeted by a group of long-legged mice running at full speed toward the passage back out to the courtyard.
How did they even hear him in all this hubbub? Delphine wondered.
“You always pick on us for grain duty!” retorted the last mouse as she ran past, biting her thumb at the vole. “We’re sick of it, Ratsus!”
The vole’s cheeks puffed in indignation. “You know perfectly well my name is Rassus, you—you weevil!” he snarled back. He flicked his gaze about, and his sights landed on Delphine. “You!” he bellowed.
She drew back.
He narrowed his eyes at her. “What are you doing standing around? Tell one of the valets where you’re going, and hurry it up! We’re all on a tight schedule!”
Delphine swallowed. “The valets?”
But he had already turned away and was arguing once more, this time with a mouse trying to bring in a massive wooden box containing several chirping crickets.
Delphine spun around. The mouse who had escorted her off the cart had been swallowed up by the crowd, but she could see a few other scarlet-doubleted mice at the far end of the hall. She headed that way, threading between nannies toting pinkie mice, merchants and vendors dragging baskets of wares, and elegant young ladymice and gentlemice strolling undisturbed through the hectic scene. A huddle of them stared at Delphine’s frock, giggling behind their fans. Delphine colored and hurried on.
At the far end of the room, she tentatively approached the valet who looked the least harried.
“Yes, yes?” said the valet before Delphine had even caught her breath.
“I’m—” Delphine fished in her pocket for the card. “I’m, um, here to see Princess Petits-Oiseaux?” She gulped, fearing she sounded like a common cabbage herder.
The valet plucked the card from her paw and scanned
it, muttering under her breath. “Princess . . . noon . . .” She glanced back up at Delphine. “You need an escort, I assume. First visit to the castle?”
Delphine shrank inside. Was it that obvious? She nodded.
The valet handed the card back to her. “Rostreau!” she called to a group of noblemice nearby, standing idly and chatting. “Escort needed!”
A pale mouse with a pleated red cap dangling off one ear glanced at the valet and waved a gloved paw dismissively. “Oh, Octavie,” he drawled back. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“Rostreau!” she demanded again.
He turned back to the other noblemice, smirking.
The valet’s whiskers quivered in anger. “They think they’re so special.” Her eye caught Delphine’s. “That’s the castle for you. Everyone’s better than someone else. You’ll see.” She slammed down her papers on a nearby pile of flour sacks, ignoring the resulting puff of flour that rose up in a cloud. Indignantly she stalked off across the busy hall, tail swishing madly, flour now dusting the side of her pants.
Delphine watched Octavie go. Was she supposed to wait? Being late for the princess would make an awful first impression. She smoothed her skirts nervously.
“Bonjour!” came a sudden voice.
Delphine jumped.
A foppish, ruddy-furred mouse with a white chin and neck had stepped out from the crowd in front of her. He looked no older than she but held himself like a pompous king, dressed from head to toe in embroidered emerald velvet. He swooshed his cape from side to side, then bowed so low she thought he was going
to try to kiss her toe.
He stood back up, eyebrow cocked, then leaned in convivially. “I hear you are going to see the princess?”
“Uh, y-yes,” she stammered. “That’s right. I’ve been asked—”
The noblemouse cut her off. “I would never ask a lady to divulge her private business. I need no reason to escort you other than the pleasure of your company, mademoiselle.” He reached for her paw.
She gave it hesitantly, unsure what he was planning until he wrapped it around his arm with a little press. “I—” Delphine tried to look back across the hall for Octavie, but he still had her paw firmly in his grip. She yanked it away. “The valet—”
He did the eyebrow thing again. “No need. You now have the pleasure of the acquaintance of Lord Alexander de Soucy Perrault, of the Poirier Perraults. You have heard of me, I’m sure.”
She hadn’t. But she wasn’t about to admit that.
“And you are . . . ?” he prompted.
“I am, uh, Delphine Desjardins.”
He coughed politely.
“Of Château Desjardins,” she added awkwardly. Was she supposed to say that? She wasn’t sure.
“Lady Delphine Desjardins of Château Desjardins, it is my honor to make your most esteemed acquaintance.” Another extremely deep bow.
She watched in concern, hoping he would be able to make it back up again without tipping over. But he straightened easily, a brand-new smoldering look plastered across his lips and eyebrows.
Did he think that was attractive?
“Give me the honor of escorting you,” the noblemouse continued. “I shall provide a most enjoyable tour of the castle as we walk.” This time, instead of reaching for her paw, he smoothed his whiskers back with an affected twirl of the wrist, obviously hoping to show off the detail of his lace cuff. Which, Delphine had to admit, was impressively intricate.
Delphine glanced at the sundial on the wall. Octavie was still nowhere to be seen.
She sighed.
Be kind, Cinderella always said. Delphine could at least do that.